Ballad of the Masses 3
by bluekrishna
Summary: The third in the Marcus and Susan saga. The fanatics have taken Shepard's daughter. It's up to one redeemed turian to rescue her. Well, one turian and the crew of the Normandy. Will they find her before she's lost forever? Are there heroes enough to stop the tide of corrupt religious dogma? Why is it while I'm writing this, I'm hearing it in the movie announcer voice? Rated M!
1. Chapter 1

She once dreamt she was a bird. Her wings had beat rapidly against a headwind, as her heart beat a savage tattoo in the hollow boned cage of her ribs. Her breath had come short and fast and she'd felt her strength flagging, her limbs growing ever wearier. But she hadn't relent, no, for there were things to see on that distant horizon, great and terrible things, always new, always different. Her desperation had something to do with how little time there was to see it all. And yet it had beckoned still. It had called in sweet dulcet tones, engaging, entrancing. Was it doom? Or was it paradise? She had ached to find out.

She thought of this dream with what little remained of rational thought in her mind, because this...feeling and that one were so very similar. The same lofty heights, the same terror and wonder, only now she was a bird the size of a world, flying over an even bigger world built of minds, like hers, but small and those smaller minds pushed and prodded and held her back even as they held her aloft, like she was a balloon with innumerable strings. They burdened her with endless noise, throwing the natural harmonies of that horizon into discord. In her dreams, she could still weep the tears that refused to fall in this place of boundless cacophony.

And just as the sensation reached the limits of her endurance, just as it all became too much, it was cut off and she was left shaking and heaving in blessed darkness and silence, the arms of her enemy around her, rocking her to and fro. His hands brushing her cheeks, though they were dry and hot. She hated herself for taking his comfort, though it wasn't like she had the strength to push him away. Weakly, she pleaded, "No more, no more."

"Shh, shh, you'll get used to it. I know it can be...unsettling, at first." His hoarse voice was almost too loud, brushed across her frayed nerves and she resisted writhing.

_And the award for understatement of the year goes to... _She couldn't help the dry bitter sound masquerading as a laugh from escaping her throat, as she looked into eyes that shone down into hers with a zealous fervor. And it went on and on, the false mirth, fully out of her control, the terror in her bubbling up out of her chest, filling the air with a sound verging on manic.

Her 'caretaker' as she'd come to think of him spoke over the laughter, rubbing her limbs lightly as though to soothe her. Like she was a child, "You did so well today. We were able to get a sounding of your mind and you managed to integrate quickly, quicker than any of the others."

Eventually, she quieted, feeling hollow of everything except fear. A fear that was manifested in the compact machine she was crudely hooked up to, "Someday you're going to turn that on and leave it on, aren't you."

It wasn't a question but he answered anyway, with an indulgent smile, "When you're ready."

A whimper left her then, "Cruel, you are cruel."

"No, dearheart, can't you feel how they love you?"

"I don't want it." Childish tones, but she didn't care. She trembled, swallowing the screams that threatened to escape. She tried not to hear the weak sounds that did manage to squeeze out around the lump in her throat. "Please, just-I can't-"

"Just a few more times today, then I promise no more until after your surgery." He leaned forward from where he sat with her in his lap and with one talon, flicked on the machine and she did scream then as the horrifying expanding began, unbalanced, unnatural. Her monster shrieked as it was shackled to the will of millions of minds, torn in so many directions that it writhed and bucked and she nearly shattered to pieces as she realized that she was it and it was her, just a vastly older part, incomprehensible in magnitude, unknowable in thought. The part of her that was Susan was so small, so tiny and it was drowning in the tide and she felt a deeper terror then, one that resonated throughout the whole of her inner being, one that made her whole psyche quake. What would happen if that mortal part of her did expire? What was left? The monster? It would go mad.

As she would go mad if this continued for any longer. Just as she thought it, it stopped and she sagged, her breath coming out in screamy little gasps, high pitched and thin. She clung to Inigo, her torturer that pretended to be kind enough to hold her like a friend, her hands fisting in his tunic, his hand smoothing her crinkled and sweaty brow and she was alarmed to feel the tiniest little shard of gratitude to not be left alone with this and mewled in denial of that dangerous thought. She panted, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You know why, Susan. Think about it."

She had. It haunted her thoughts for most of the time she had been in this timeless place. How long had she been here? Felt like years sometimes. Surely if Marcus were alive, he'd have found her by now. Time and time again, her mind kept returning to the idea that had taken root in it when Javik had mentioned her father in the shuttle on the way to rescuing her mother. She wanted to shout that it was impossible, that she was just ordinary old Susan, whose mother's wild maiden days flings had produced a daughter of indeterminate origin, like so many other asari. But she knew better and she voiced this suspicion almost timidly, "Because...because Shepard is my father."

Said aloud seemed to cement its reality and she reeled back from the magnitude of its implication. A deep breath and then another. And she said it again, with certainty, "Because Shepard is my father."

"Good. You see now. You are so special, Susan. How lucky I am that I'm the one to be your sentinel." He smiled down at her stunned and angry expression. She felt...disappointment, resentment. That this had been kept from her for so long. She could have guarded herself against this eventuality better had she known, or...maybe not. There was no real way to prepare for the onslaught of the machine, but still she would have known. It would have helped complete the puzzle picture of who she was. She would have asked questions, she would have- But it was no good now, she was lost, slowly losing her mind at the hands of those who believed her father was some sort of god. Inigo gave her hand a little squeeze and said, "Ready?"

No, she would never be ready for what comes of pushing that little button and arced in his hold, every muscle seized and twitched as it was once again turned on, her last thought as she was swept away one of deep hurt, _Why didn't you tell me, mother? What was so bad that you couldn't tell me?_

* * *

He held her hand as the medtechs worked to install the latest version of their interface. The anaesthetic was minimal, it had to be so they could calibrate it correctly. Their faces were covered completely in opaque masks, as they always were. If not for the occasional comment or instruction, she'd have thought them machines. She long ago figured out that this was to make them unapproachable to her, that she was meant to rely only on Inigo, to connect only with Inigo. She was sickened that their manipulation was working, despite everything she did to counter the conditioning. She hissed and squeezed his hand tighter as they hit a sensitive area near her amp. She knew that the device would spread nanites and that white eezo derivative throughout her body. Her lip trembled as she thought of how extensively they sought to change her. Not on the outside, but on the inside.

He spoke as they worked, "I told you. There will be no bulky wires and tubes, not for you. You will be in a state of perfection forever, at one with your people."

In here, it was easy to think that the Shepards had won, that their power was insurmountable. Maybe that was part of their conditioning too, so she wouldn't fight against 'hopeless' odds. Everything was a trap, she had to remember that. Only it was getting harder to remember after each session in the machine. Was there even an outside world any more? Or did everything cease to exist past that door? When she was in the machine, was she dreaming the countless worlds that lay under her hand? Maybe none of them existed until she thought them.

She'd found out that distance was an illusion, that two stars on the opposite sides of the galaxy were only a hair apart, really. It was all about scope. And perspective. And knowing how it was done, like a magician's trick. Though it was funny how she could only do it when she was in the machine, with a million minds pushing her just so or else she would have liked to stand herself on the multitude of worlds she glimpsed through their eyes. Every variation imaginable lay out there in the galaxy that may or may not exist. She'd never see the sky again, or walk on soft loam, or run, or fight.

Her eyes prickled in grief and she bit her lip, "How long have I been here?"

"Forever." He replied, her unwanted but constant companion.

"No, I have memories. My mother, the Normandy, Marcus." She felt his thumb twitch fractionally and knew it was a victory. If only she could confirm what she remembered at least once a day, she could try to stay sane.

"They never existed. There is only this, only now." Pure confidence in his tone. She wondered if he believed it sometimes. Maybe true faith could rewrite history. It was wrong though, she felt it. Everything was wrong.

"Where is this?" A question she'd asked many times and she mouthed his reply as he spoke it.

"The cradle where you were reborn."

"That implies I was born once before."

"You were reborn many times. You are the avatar of the god."

Once when she was a child, she'd asked her mother if there really was a goddess. Her mother had laughed and said, it was an important question. More important than the answer. That she should always ask herself that question. Faith is nothing without doubt, said the wise blue woman that haunted her dreams, her arms about a smaller version of herself. The woman that was that child watched the scene third person and wondered at it. Was it real? The poignancy of the memory seemed to reinforce its validity.

Doubt. Doubt was important. It made one question what had always been thought of as true. It led to questing for answers, it was growth, it held the possibilities of endless possibilities within it. Ordinary mortal minds teemed with it, whereas the ones that pushed her to fold space for them had had the majority of doubt stripped out of them. And this was happening all across the world of minds she touched, it lit a sorrow in her that was deeper than bone deep. It hurt because she could see the path's end. Stagnation, the death of culture, the death of will and choice. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was a dead end that those who lead this mob were barreling toward at breakneck speeds.

She tried to tell this to Inigo, but his mind was too empty of doubt to hear it. Faith filled all the corners in his mind. A shallow sort of faith. He only let himself know what he wanted to know. She could almost pity him for it. A pity that was banished every time he turned on that damn machine. She turned her head to look at him, "I command you to let me go. This is your god speaking. Seriously."

He did not answer, only smiled at her kindly while his eyes danced madly in his scarred face and she felt her shoulders shake in laughter, a morbid sort of humor flooding through her. The machine had rewritten her sense of humor it seemed. Everything was a laugh now. Her own futile struggle. The thought of the Shepards' self destruction, a destruction she was going to be a big part of, though not in the way she'd thought she'd be, she'd just be helping it along to its inevitable terminus. Or maybe it was the thought of that smile on his face as the 'holy empire' crumbled around him, unable to sustain itself because the fire of invention had been taken out of it.

The medtech working on her admonished her sharply for moving, which only made the laughter louder. That was too rich, they all wanted her to move them, in more ways than one. But she didn't get to move, oh no, their captive god was a slave in every way. She shrieked in laughter now, the sound bouncing off the walls. She heard the medtechs curse and some instruments fell. There was a sting in her arm and darkness pulled her into unconsciousness, where even in her mind, she screamed in mirth.


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at the man in the mirror like he was daring him to comment. The lacquer felt cool and wet on his skin and shone like fresh blood. That it was the color of blood didn't help the illusion. Like he'd painted his face as the tribal leaders of old did, in the blood of their enemies. Back when they all wore the blue of Palaven. Before colonies, before first contact. Hell, back before combustion vehicles even.

The practice had resurfaced during the colonial uprisings and then, curiously, never left. It had become an underpinning of modern society, more fashion than political statement, a custom. But one stigma had never lifted. A bare faced turian was a liar, he was a man afraid of his past, and one who sought to hide that past from everyone who laid eyes on him. Homeless, nameless, honorless. But he wasn't that man any more.

He barely recognized himself in the reflection, instead he saw another man, or rather an amalgam of two other men, an alloy of two metals, two shaping forces, both blood kin to him, both long dead. Briefly, he closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed for a moment, feeling unequal to the task for just a split second, like he was trying on another man's boots and finding them too large.

His eyes snapped open when someone stepped into the bathroom with him and he slid his gaze sideways to stare at Errol, who stepped up to lean nonchalantly against the wall next to his sink. The other turian nodded in greeting but otherwise stayed silent, a strange flicker in his eyes. Marcus eyed him for a moment before saying, "Thanks for the loan."

"No problem." Errol held his hand out to take back the thing Marcus borrowed, a tool for blunting talons and the man took it and tucked it into his belt. "So I hear they've offered to reinstate you."

He nodded, "I haven't given them an answer yet. Probably won't until...this mission...is over."

Errol winced, knowing Marcus didn't mean it as cold as it sounded. They all missed Susan. It had been over three weeks and while they got closer all the time, they never seemed to be able to pin down the bastards. Liara and Kasumi had taken half the fleet spirits knew where while Kaiden and James and Jack had a volatile three way grudge match for leadership of what remained. Marcus kept them in line with a cool head and good strategies most of the time. Odd how they looked to him now for guidance, but he was the idea man, so he supposed it wasn't that odd.

Errol cleared his throat, "I got offered a job too."

"I heard. Mess Sergeant Errol Tanis. Congratulations."

Marcus turned back to his reflection, carefully correcting a small smear on his lower right mandible. It would take awhile for the lacquer to bond to his plates, especially since he'd gone without for so long. Long enough for his skin to have built layers of natural finish over the etched area. The new lacquer would have to abrade the plates with its slightly acidic nature before the compound could dry without flaking.

"I can't get over how much you look like him." Errol said, running a hand over his fringe in amazement.

"My uncle? Or Archangel?" He watched the other turian carefully for a reaction and smiled when he saw Errol jump slightly.

"Oh, haha, how did you find out about my little theory?" Errol crossed his arms with a slight air of chagrin.

"Hmm. Not a theory. Fact." He said with amusement, then added, "Funny what you can find out by asking the people that were closest to the facts. James likes to babble around his fifth shot and getting Zaeed to tell stories isn't exactly hard."

"Huh, why didn't I think of that?"

"Probably too intimidated by their reputations."

"That's...entirely possible. Most of them scare the shit out of me." Errol laughed, "And yet here you are traipsing about their ship, barking orders and they don't even bat an eye."

"As long as someone's doing it." Marcus adjusted his towel to hang more securely around his hips and gathered his things.

"I can't believe you never told me you were a Vakarian." Errol walked with him to the door, palming it open for the encumbered turian. Marcus nodded thanks.

"You didn't ask and for a long while there, I didn't feel like one." He hung a left to the elevator and punched the button with his elbow, "If it's any consolation, I had to pull the 'family' card to get them to tell me about Archangel."

There was silence for a time between the men, things were said without them actually saying them aloud. Grief over Simp's death, a deep worry over what was happening to their Susan. Marcus shifted and turned slightly to take in the memorial wall, reading each name, lingering over a few, wondering who the rest had been. This ship and her crew had been through a lot, there was a lot of sorrow here. That they soldiered on regardless said something about their spirits. That they'd earned the right to be here and be remembered should they fall.

Would he be put on here with these other honored dead when he died? He didn't think so, not now, and maybe never. But he found himself wanting to be worthy, if not here then in a place of his own. He reached out as though to touch the plaques and imagined he felt their chiseled markings under his fingers. Errol touched his shoulder tentatively and Marcus turned back to him with a puzzled frown. The other turian reached into a pouch and produced a curious thing. A book, hardbound in leather, its paging starting to yellow around the edges. Errol said, "When the Shepards started banning books, this was very nearly the first one they'd eradicated. They sent out viruses to eat them off of every unsecure hard drive in the galaxy. You have no idea how hard it was to find a hard copy of it."

Marcus shifted his burdens around to take what was proffered and nearly dropped the lot when he read the cover. '_The Way.'_ And at the very bottom, in the tiniest, most modest script, _by Taltos Cicero. _

His father? _Father had written a book?_ He flipped through the well worn pages with one thumb and gaped when he found the drawings. Sketch after sketch, all in his father's bold pen strokes, most featuring his uncle Garrus in unguarded moments, laughing, drinking, sleeping curled around his sniper rifle like a kid with a favorite toy. He flipped back to a page somewhere near the beginning and read: _I asked him once why he believed the heirarchy had to change and he said, 'Cicero, tradition is all fine and good but when it limits personal growth, when it starts making you think there are no other options, that you have no choice, that is a problem. The way I see it, tyranny begins when you try to control the thoughts of your people.' I then asked if he thought the heirarchy was a tyranny and he thought about it for a time before replying, 'In some ways, governments can't help it. Governments govern, that's what they do and when given free reign will govern more and more 'undesirable' behaviors until their citizens can't move for fear of breaking the law until eventually everyone gets fed up and you get revolutions and uprisings. System breaks down, compromises are reached, everything returns to a baseline and we all get on with our lives.' Then I said to my wise friend, 'Where do you think our baseline will be after the war?'_

_He laughed, that sarcastic chuckle he deployed like one of his proximity mines. Funny how it made everyone around him smile. He said, "If there is an after? I don't know. Lots of things will change, you, me, everyone who survives will be just a little more jaded, more aware of how easy it is to wipe out life as we know it. Will we change enough to take advantage of our second lease on existence? I want to say yes, but I know people. They are petty, cruel, and selfish on the average. But...on the other hand, they can also be so noble, courageous, resilient. So where does that leave us? Probably confused. There's bound to be lots and lots of confusion in the aftermath-'_

"The elevator's been open for like five minutes now." Errol's voice cut into his reverie sharply and he started guiltily, then he realized suddenly what a precious thing he had in his hands. Not just the story of his late great uncle but also told in the words of his father, who'd died shortly after his uncle's funeral, along with his mother. Were her words in here as well? So precious, but it wasn't his and he reluctantly held it back out to Errol, who shook his head and pushed it back toward him, "Keep it."

"I...don't know what to say." Moved beyond belief, he numbly held the book to his chest.

"Thanks is the appropriate response, usually."

Marcus favored him a lopsided grin, "Thanks, Errol. I'd hug you, but seeing as I'm naked and all..."

"Yeah, whoa. Hugging's not...necessary." The other turian shifted uneasily before making gestures toward the galley, "Almost chow time. I gotta get to work."

He caught the other turian's wrist before he scuttled off and said, "Thank you, seriously, you don't know what this means to me. Cicero was my father."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that bit out. He mentions kids in the book, but he never named names, or locations. Probably to protect all of you. Anyway, I just thought you'd like to have the book." Abashed, Errol ducked his head.

Marcus let go of the embarrassed man's wrist and stepped into the elevator, saying to the air as the doors shut, "Thanks for holding the door, EDI."

"Yeah, no problem. We only delayed like half the servicemen from getting to the head while you and your friend gabbed." Joker's sardonic voice filled the lift. Marcus hit the button for the cargo hold, where he bunked near the kodiak.

EDI rejoinded, "Need I remind you that it was your idea to delay the elevator's departure. That you said watching Jack's face turn red as she punched at the buttons was quote unquote 'funny'."

"Yeah...I'd prefer it if you didn't mention that to Jack. I don't want to have to go around in a servomech if she spaces my shell, those things always have the weirdest operating systems. I mean, who uses inverted controls any more?" Joker seemed to take a breath. Marcus wondered at that. Was it a holdover from when the man had lungs? How long was the AI going to hold on to those habits? Joker continued, "Anyway, Errol seems to be fitting in well. Helps that he knows that full soldiers are happy soldiers."

"Frigates do not usually have enough crewmembers to require a mess sergeant." EDI stated, a bit quizzically.

"Shh, don't say that too loud. They might take it back. I think Jack and Massani miss Gardner cooking for them and James always leaves a mess in the mess, if you'll forgive the pun. Besides, Errol makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches."

"You can eat?" Marcus said, tilting his head.

"He can not. He says he likes to watch others eat. Likes to comment while they are doing so."

"God, you make it sound so creepy. Like I'm some sort of food voyeur."

"That is the word the ensigns use to describe it, yes. Especially when you tell them to 'chew it slower'."

Marcus laughed, "Yeah, that does sound a little creepy."

"Oh, I'm the weird one? It wasn't me that was asking Wrex about krogan genitalia the other day when he was in the shower. Never saw the guy jump so high in my life. I swear his crest hit the ceiling. He still can't look your shell in the eye."

The doors opened thankfully and he exited, leaving the two disembodied voices bickering behind him and made his way to his bunk, banging on the kodiak as he went past. The hatch lifted and Caesar poked his head out, tongue lolling in a huge yawn. Marcus sat on his bunk and pulled his thin blanket over his nude frame, yawning himself. It had been a long, fruitless day that would doubtless lead to a long sleepless night. He might catch maybe an hour at most.

He pulled the book up onto his chest and considered it for a time, just ran his hands over it reverently. Caesar slinked down onto the floor next to his cot and peered over his shoulder as he opened it to the beginning, "What is that?"

"A book."

"I know what a book is. What does it say?"

"You can't read?" Surprised, he tilted his head to the side and met Caesar's golden gaze.

The being huffed, "Not that language."

A moment as he shuffled this information away into the big file cabinet that contained the things he knew about this enigmatic furry beastman, "It's a story, mostly true, I think, about my father and my uncle."

"Oh?" He set his massive head on the bunk and stared at Marcus expectantly.

"What? Do you want me to read it to you or something?" Marcus said with a touch of sarcasm.

"This taa'ih would be most interested if you would, my sa'diqi."

He kind of felt that this was private, that he'd like to be alone with his memories for a time. But as he thought about it, he saw no harm and it might be...nice to share this with someone. There was a turian upstairs who'd already read this book, and there were many on this boat who already knew most of the story. No, there was no harm. He cleared his throat and read, "Chapter one, 22nd day of the septimonth. Call me Ishmael. Ha, that's my little joke for those of you who read human literature, which I know has become all the rage across the settled worlds lately. Personally, I still prefer the turian classics like '_Homeworld United' _or_ 'Classic War Games of the Hyneian Era.'_ But I digress.

"My name is Taltos Cicero and I am a junior officer in the 31st Rifle Regiment stationed out of Cipritine and I'll be the first to tell you that I am not the perfect soldier, my insubordination had once again landed me in the brig and there I stayed for a week until this morning. I was yanked out of my cell and shoved into a clean uniform and then was summarily marched out into the yard of the base. At the time, I wondered if I'd finally pissed off enough people to get me executed by firing squad, if switching out my CO's facepaint for bright fuscia was a capital offense, if so, I didn't remember it being in the regs. There was a large procession there. I recognized a few of the other soldiers, some had been in lockup with me. The rest were clearly from off planet and I was shocked to see a full cabal there, in their purple armor, standing in formation with the rest of us like they were regulars.

"There was a podium with a screen behind it set up at the head of this assemblage and we were called to attention just as a man climbed its steps. I was surprised to see that he was young, very young, younger than most of the troops in this strange company. His blue armor was scratched and damaged in places, his face scarred horribly on one side and he looked grim. Grimmer than the grimmest general I'd ever had the pleasure of getting chewed out by. And then, in a day of surprises, the most surprising thing happened. He slouched and..._grinned_ at us. I heard many soldiers mutter around me at this breach of standard protocol and I confess now that I was just as shocked. He leaned on the podium and said, spirits I can't even think of the words to describe how he sounded, it was like low and smooth and..._deadly_, he said, "Oh, they are in so much trouble."

"My jaw dropped and I thought to myself, "Remember this day, Cicero, it's probably going to be the most interesting day of your life." Marcus paused, then continued, "I went to requisitions to buy this journal for that exact reason. Because as I listened to the turian who was now my new CO, Garrus Vakarian, tell us exactly _who_ the 'they' he was talking about was and that the day that Palaven and every world, colony, spacestation and outpost was invaded and destroyed was drawing ever closer, I believed. You couldn't look into that man's eyes and not believe. I had imagination enough to see the shadow of them there. And it occurred to me that if I died, if we all died fighting these bogeymen from the dawn of time, that someone should make an account of these last days. That we, simple soldiers all, should be remembered for trying."

That was the end of the first entry. He stopped and leaned his head back with his eyes closed, the weight of history dropping onto his tall frame until he felt near crushed by it. He whispered, "You did more than try, dad."

"He was a good man, your father?" Caesar rumbled, eyes half closed as he watched Marcus' memories flit across the surface of his mind. He didn't delve, Marcus wouldn't forgive him this intrusion, he knew. He just observed, sighing at Marcus' deep understanding of these two men and their friendship.

"Youngest general in hundreds of years, retired with full honors, raised a big family as best as he could." Marcus had always had the feeling that his father always felt second and in a way, he was right. Where Garrus Vakarian led, Taltos Cicero followed, though it was in a more figurative sense once his father had struck out as a leader on his own. Later on, when they'd both given up their mantles, he remembered a more relaxed relationship between the two, no longer leader and subordinate, just two old soldiers having a drink together and telling each other war stories.

His omnitool beeped from somewhere in the nest of his soiled garments and he dug through the bin for it, the ultra slim flexible metal band slipping into its customary place around his palm with ease. He opened the message, feeling his pulse pick up as the words registered, his eyes narrowing. Pushing his blanket off, he swiveled, dropping his feet onto the floor and fished for fresh underarmor, pulling it on almost violently, zipping it up to his neck before standing to reach for his armor rack.

His hands ghosted over the armor's new finish, matte black with small accents of blue at the edges and a wolfish grin tugged at his mandibles. Yes, this was more like it. He strapped it on with care, then went to the armory and got the rest of his kit. He picked a generic sniper rifle at random, thinking how he missed his old one and pocketed some mods in his haste. They could always be field rigged easily. He patted himself to make sure he didn't forget anything, then jerked his head at Caesar to get him to follow him to the elevator.

He palmed the panel, which opened almost immediately, like it was waiting for him. Which it might have been, there was no telling with this ship and its sentient minds roaming its silicone veins. Caesar trotted on all fours into the elevator with him and sat as it trundled upwards. "They found it?"

Marcus turned his burning gaze down to his friend, "They found _her."_


	3. Chapter 3

"-so I searched the archives and found the same anomaly my mother mentioned in her notes. A mining station in the heart of a nebula, only there are no planets or asteroids near enough to mine. Just a single mention of it being a simple research base-"

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time Miranda 'stretched the truth'."Jack said sardonically, framing the words in the air with her fingers, her face a bitter sneer. Marcus stepped into the room with a frown. "I should have ripped her apart when I had the chance."

Mira's head snapped around to stare at the tattooed woman and her eyes narrowed, "Well, that's one thing you and my mother had in common. She was an unmitigating bitch, too."

"oooOOOoooo." Said Joker, silver eyes round when the two women squared off with each other. He elbowed Kaiden in the ribs, "Catfight."

"Jeezus, Joker, she's like fifteen."

"Sixteen." Snapped Mira shortly, not taking her flashing green eyes off the biotic in front of her. Her hands balled into fists.

Jack stepped up until she was an inch from Mira's face, fury pulling her face into an ugly scowl, "Little girls shouldn't play with fire."

James said warningly, "Jack..."

"I don't play." The girl said in deathly quiet tones, meeting her threat for threat, "Push me and we'll see who gets burned, you dry. Old. Cunt."

Surely that would be the breaking point. Soon blood and hair yanked out by the roots would be flying all around the room, if there was a room left after this. For a long moment, neither one moved a single muscle, but tension built to a screaming pitch, there was actually blue light flickering around their hands. When suddenly, Jack grinned, looking around at everyone who watched, ready to step in and jerked her thumb at Mira, "I like her. She's got balls."

A laugh circulated the room, not as loud as it would have been if everyone hadn't just been ready for a fight. They all relaxed.

It was at this point that Marcus was noticed and many a head did a double take as they took in his face, his armor. Then smiles, small smiles at his audacity grew on their faces, the ones who saw their old comrade in him and Wrex, his haggard face still showing wear from his travails, limped to him and stared him in the face critically, with one baleful red eye, "If I didn't remember the five of you squirts running me ragged on Tuchanka, I'd be wondering who cloned Garrus."

"I'm taller, Uncle Wrex." Marcus rolled his eyes and said to Mira, "Go on."

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," Mira turned back to the monitor and Marcus was amused to see Jack stick her tongue out at the girl's back, "this station shouldn't be there. There's no reason for it to be there and look at its designation."

Marcus read it aloud, the universal phonetic key making the word unnatural in his mouth, "Koo-nah-blah."

"Cunabula, yes. It means 'cradle'." The girl's cheeks were flushed as she looked sideways at him meaningfully.

"The Cradle. Can't be a coincidence." Marcus' eyes narrowed, then he squeezed her shoulder warmly, his eyes blazing approval down at her before again looking at the galaxy map, "Where is it in relation to the border?"

The map zoomed out on its own and EDI spoke, "It is near the rim, past the Valhallan Threshold."

James whistled, "Shit. That's deep in Shepland. How we gonna get there, Grim?"

"Grim?" Puzzled, before he recalled the human's penchant for nicknaming everybody, then he just frowned.

"See? Grim." He held his hand out, pointing it out to everyone there. He continued with a teasing lilt, "Coulda gone with Smiley-"

Kaiden slapped him on the back of the head, "We've got some serious shit to do and you're making jokes."

"Ow." James looked at Alenko with chagrin, rubbing his bruised noggin, then shot Marcus an apologetic look, "Sorry, compadre."

Already thinking on other matters, Marcus waved his hand dismissively. He said, his mandibles flicking idly, "Where is the other fleet?"

"Last we heard from Liara and Javik, they were on Omega, working with Aria to establish a beach head there. With so many of their carriers gone, the Shepards' mobility has been compromised, though there have been incursions into council space lately, small gains, losses on both sides, like they're testing us." Kaiden said, resting his elbows on the table.

"There is a pattern." EDI stepped forward and the display changed so that the map was divided into two colors, red for Shepard space, blue for Council, "Here are the attacks over the period of the last three weeks."

The red edges spiked outward in pulses, reaching further with each flux, pretty evenly along the entire border. James said, "They're expanding, just too slowly for anyone to notice yet. How are they doing that with only one carrier left? I thought it had to be near for them to jump."

"Perhaps there has been a technological breakthrough." EDI.

Perhaps, but Marcus had a suspicion that whatever it was, it had to do with Susan. Maybe they were trying this new technology out on her. He winced, trying not to conjure images of her strapped into a harness, her eyes wide and empty. The anger he was holding in reserve flared and he dropped a fist down onto the console with a loud thud. Everyone's eyes swiveled to him and he ground out, "It's not important right now. We can figure it out after we've taken out this...Cradle. And for that, I think we're going to need the whole fleet."

"We're gonna march right up onto their front doorstep?" Jack said doubtfully, though a smile flitted around her full red lips.

"We're going to make them think that's what we're doing. See this planet here?" He jabbed a blunt talon at a speck on the map, close to the Valhallan Threshold, "It looks important. The Shadow Broker's intel has it earmarked as weapons manufacture, right?"

"Yeah?" Joker said, waving a metal arm for him to continue.

"Looks like the sort of target any military would endeavor to take out. Well, we don't want to tip our hand until their forces are fully committed defending it. Then, we'll just shoot past them to our true target. The one they don't even know we know about."

"Devious." Caesar rumbled, from his spot on the floor, grinning hugely at the stunned faces that turned down to him. He found it still amused him to startle the crew. "I like it."

Mira shook her head, "But if they bring their one carrier into play, they can meet us at the station. They'd get there first."

Marcus let an evil smile draw his mandibles out, "We've taken out every carrier they've sent into battle against us. Why would they risk the last one? No, I don't think they'll want to bring that carrier anywhere near us."

"The mouse fears the eagle's shadow more than the eagle itself. It has more time to think about its impending doom _before_ the claws close than after." Caesar laughed and rolled onto his side, making those adjacent to him take a few steps back to accommodate.

"Wait...how do you know what an eagle is? Or a mouse for that matter?" Kaiden said, scratching his head.

"I have seen your Earth." The taa'ih said smugly, his expression closed to further inquiry, his eyes dancing with secrets.

"Tangents, people. Honestly, it's like herding cats." Jack said sharply and turned back to Marcus. "So what's the plan, exactly?"

"I'm sure Liara is as good at disseminating information as she is in acquiring it. We let her leak information on a huge assault on that planet, something to warrant scrambling the defenses of every nearby system. We play the part, we take out smaller targets on a direct line to it. Fast and hard. We make it loud, we let them take holos if they want, we yell and rant and spill our plans in dramatic monologues if we have to and we 'let' some of them live to spread the word." Marcus had them now, their eyes glowed with fervor as his words painted a multi-layered landscape of feints and deception on a grand scale. They grinned savagely as he closed with, "And then, the eagle's claw will close."

They crowed uproarious approval and he was slapped on the back repeatedly, feeling a rush himself that had his own teeth baring in a fierce smirk. Jack yelled over the hubbub, "Get Liara on the QE. She might not get a laugh out of this one, but I'm sure Javik will."

Hours later, after the plans had been laid, after all the arguing, he finally let himself feel the exhaustion that had waited patiently for him to finish his business. He found himself back in his bunk, laying with his eyes open in the dark, wishing for sleep that never came. He was trying to recall the warmth of her at his side, the way she always waited for him to fall asleep before succumbing herself. He missed her, in the safety of the quiet shuttle bay, he curled on his side and wondered if she was okay, knew she wasn't and it trailed icy fingers of fear up his spine.

He wanted to be out there already, searching, shooting, whatever was needed to bring her home safe, away from those bastards that took her. He only hoped that her status as their supposed deity's child would keep her from the majority of bodily harm. They wouldn't break what was sacred, right? It was scant comfort without knowing for sure and did little to quell the unease in him.

Marcus closed his eyes and tried to shut it out for now, what could be happening to her. He could do nothing right now. The next few days would determine whether or not his plan would succeed. He whispered into his cupped hands as he'd done as a child, "Please, if there are spirits, watch over her and let her know I'm-_we're_ coming for her."

* * *

_She rose above him and her hands touched him tenderly along the sides of his neck, her eyes burning like twin emerald stars in the gloom of the dusk. The sun setting behind her limned her sleek form in fire. He put his hands out to try to quench those flames, but only met cool turquoise flesh and it was soft, so soft under his calloused palms. For a moment, he was afraid he'd mar it with his talons, but then he remembered that he'd blunted them and he sighed into her neck, a deep sigh of relief that she was here, that she was unharmed. There had been danger, he was sure, but it seemed so remote now, he couldn't quite remember what had been so dire._

_Her hands, with their five cunning fingers, danced along his plates, stroking between them with just enough delicious friction to set his pulse jumping and he ran his tongue over the hollow at the base of her throat, closing his eyes at how good she tasted. The feel of her, the weight of her, he felt suddenly starved for want of her and pulled her as close as he could, putting aside the lust for now so he could just...hold her, the presence at his side that had been missing. The one whose heart had been so open to him, was open to everyone she came in contact with._

_In his arms, she trembled and then pulled away to look him earnestly in the eyes and he could feel the love in there beating at him like heat from a hearth, love she'd kept silent and hidden though he'd known it was there and he also saw sorrow and it filled him with an unknowable dread. Her lips parted and he heard her voice for the first time in what felt like an age, "You have to let me go."_

_What? No, he couldn't. What had he been fighting for if not for this? Without her, he'd be alone again. Only she understood him. Only Susan saw the real him behind the name, behind the awful tragedy of his life. She'd shown him a future beyond Aleia's death, a way to go on existing, in spite of the pain, and because of it. There was no him without her._

_She was dissolving, no, dispersing, her form became ethereal and spread and spread and he clutched at the mist desperately, his distress a palpable thing that had him nearly mindless as his hands continued to close on nothing but air. And that distress climbed out of his throat in a howl that reverberated all across the empty landscape. He screamed, he pleaded, begging of the sun that drew down behind the horizon, knowing that somehow it was her and once that flaming ball set, there would only be night forever after, please, please, please, don't go I'd give anything just come back I need you I lo-_

He sat up abruptly, heart pounding as though he'd run a race and reached for her unthinkingly, then froze as he realized that he'd just been dreaming. No, it had been more like a nightmare and he tried to recall all of it, but the images slipped through his fingers like sand, crumbling to dust. He huffed in frustration, his pulse quieting to a dull roar and wondered at that. He could only guess now, the memory was gone, like smoke.

Marcus checked his chronometer. Three whole hours, it must be a record and he swung his feet down onto the floor, cradling his head in his hand. A sudden sound grabbed his attention, he turned his head sharply to the noise. It came from somewhere over by the weapons locker and he poked his head out cautiously to see what it was.

There was a human over there by the mod bench, wearing civvies. There was only the lamp on to illuminate the figure and he narrowed his eyes as he recognized the listless shuffling of one Mr. Taylor. Marcus wondered what he was doing down here in the middle of the down cycle, and how he'd slipped the leash of his caregiver, Dr. Michel. Marcus pulled on some loose shorts and stepped out into the otherwise empty shuttle bay and walked slowly to where the human was fiddling about with something on the bench. He stopped a distance away so he wouldn't startle the human too much. He cleared his throat and said, "Jacob, what are you doing down here?"

The dark skinned man turned and his face broke out in an earnest smile, white teeth flashing in the dim light, "Garrus. Hey, man, how you been?"

He was clearly confused and Marcus stepped a little closer so that he could see what Jacob had been working on, and then said, "Jacob, I'm not-"

"Hey, listen, you remember that time on the Citadel when Shepard let us cut loose in the Dark Star lounge? Oh, man, you got so drunk and when we were headed back to the Normandy, I looked around and couldn't find you, Garrus. We forgot you at the bar, but I was so sloshed I couldn't remember the way back. We were all pretty toasted." Jacob chuckled, his eyes cloudy and far away, but Marcus watched his hands move surely over the rifle he'd been stripping, a rifle he'd have recognized if it had been in a million pieces, and not just the few it was in now. His old Mark I Viper, the one that had broken when he'd had to use it like a lever. He felt a pang looking at it now, for even he could see that it was irreparable, merely a curiosity now. Jacob continued, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for ditching you in that bar. How did you get back to the Normandy anyway?"

"I, uh-Look, Jacob, I'm not-"

The human interrupted him again, "Would you look at this, Garrus? Thing should be in a museum. And some joker went and broke it. This had to have been someone's baby, look at how clean it is, even in all the little parts that people never clean. I always liked the old Viper, you only got like two or three shots but fuck, it was reliable. Put some mods on there and you'd almost never worry about too much downtime from overheating."

"I know. It's my rifle, Jacob."

"Oh, shit, really? What did you do to it?" Those dark hands wandered lovingly over the weapon and Jacob sighed, a deep sad sound, "It's too bad, man."

"Jacob, look at me." Marcus reached out and put his hand on the man's shoulder. The human's eyes drifted over to his and Marcus said, "I'm not Garrus."

Puzzlement ran the gauntlet around Jacob's face and a frown pulled his lips downward as those clouded eyes searched his face. The turian saw worry and fear and uncertainty there and finally, the dawn of reason and the human clutched his head and looked away from him guiltily, "Of-of course not. Sorry, Marcus, I just get...confused."

He felt a small pang of sadness as he watched Jacob try to pull some semblance of sanity together and he said placatingly, "It's okay, Jacob. I've been called worse names."

"Hah, yeah, I got mistaken for my dad once. It wasn't...good." Jacob turned his attention back to the gun he'd been working on and a slow smile built back onto his dark face, "The old Viper. Hell of a gun. I had a thought that might pan out if you give me a few days with her, Marcus."

"Uh, sure, knock yourself out." Surely, Jacob didn't think it could be fixed. And yet, Marcus felt a tiny thrill that it might be possible. And if not, well, at least it gave Jacob something to do, "Take all the time you need."

"Yeah, I got some ideas...like that Widow, remember?"

"What Widow?" Alarmed, Marcus watched the light of sense dim in Jacob's eyes and nearly groaned aloud at the human's next words.

"You remember, Garrus, the one that nearly took your arm off. Then Mordin had to patch you up and aw, man, you got so embarrassed when I called you out on that bite mark." Jacob was once again lost in his memories and Marcus shook his head, not sure if it was a kindness to let him continue to live in a time before all...this, or a cruelty. "Hey, after Shepard takes down the Collectors, I better get an invite to the wedding. I'm just sayin'."

"What wedding?"

"Yours and Shepard's. Obviously."

What? His uncle and Commander Shepard? Now it was his turn to be confused. Never in all the time he'd spent with his uncle did anything like that come to light. The stories had been full of admiration, sure, but...love? Or was that his own childish naivete keeping him from really seeing things as they were? Now what Javik had said in the shuttle made sense.

There were so many things he hadn't known about his uncle, so many things. But this, while it didn't seem impossible...now he realized why Uncle Garrus never bonded, never had a family, and the sadness he'd seen in that scarred face, it all made sense. It was mindblowing how ignorant he'd been about the private life of the man he'd looked up to, emulated. But there was the book. Maybe there was more of this in there and all the other things he'd never known.

Jacob was humming now as he worked, his fingers moving expertly to take the rifle apart and Marcus watched for a time. His omnitool beeped and he opened the comms, "Yeah."

"Get your kit on, Vakarian. We're hitting the first three outposts in half an hour." Jack said shortly.

"Got it." He turned to Jacob, who was looking at him askance with a soldering iron in his hand, "Listen, I gotta go. Have fun with that rifle."

A gleeful grin lit the man's features and he waved a hand as he turned back to his task, "Yeah, yeah. Don't go breaking another one while you're supposed to be watching Shepard's back. No, wait, that's not right...Shepard's...dead..."

Those hands stilled as Marcus walked away, unable to stay and talk to the tormented man. But soon enough, the humming picked back up again, interspersed with merry whistling. Marcus almost envied the man his ability to forget, almost. Though realizing in the few lucid spells that you've been delusional must be a horror in itself.

He readied his armor and weapons and waited near the kodiak, watching Jacob work. Soon, he was joined by Caesar, and Kaiden. Jack, James and Mira were heading the other force and they would leapfrog targets until this was done. Kaiden sized him up in his black armor before commenting, "This is my show since you've got no rank at the moment."

"Yes, sir."

"But you see a new angle, or if you think up anything in that big brain of yours, you just do it, okay?" Kaiden smiled, "I know you know what you're doing."

He nodded in acknowledgement. He hoped he knew what he was doing. It was mostly instinct and intuition, and while it had failed before, he knew now to be vigilant. Vigilance and flexibility, those were key. He rolled back onto a hip and replied, "Let's go make some noise."


	4. Chapter 4

"Is that better?" His voice was amused as he massaged her temples and she could almost weep from the relief it brought.

"Don't touch me." Susan ground out from around the small bit in her mouth. Saliva dripped down her chin and he wiped it away with a soft cloth, unconcernedly. Three days in the machine this time, three whole days and it had taken her another to recover her wits. She only knew this because for once he'd answered when she asked. The memories always took a bit longer to coalesce each time, she wondered if they would shatter completely someday, if she'd be left without a past, ignorant of who she was, or who she'd been, just an empty automaton dancing to their tune.

"You're very feisty today, aren't you?" He sighed and lifted a hand to her cheek , tutting under his breath at the slight fever she was running, "Concentrate on relaxing, if you relax, it won't hurt as much."

She made a dry coughing sound that was somewhere between a laugh and retching and fought the obstruction in her mouth to slowly say, "Relax, he says. If he knew what it was like every time he presses that little button, he wouldn't be saying that to me. No, he would be screaming and trying to bash his own head in."

"Dramatic."

"I'm _under_-exaggerating if anything." Susan felt him lift her limp form and set it in the tub. She had no motor control after the surgery, no movement past speaking and blinking. And thinking, of course. Though that was fast becoming a luxury as well. The water ran over her skin but she barely felt it. Everything was dimmer, her sight was going too. They had taken everything from her. To shut out the horror of it, she kept speaking, "Do you know what it's like?"

The hands paused and his voice reached her ears oddly hushed, "No, that is an honor I will never be worthy of."

"An honor? Is it an honor to feel the pressure of thousands of minds crushing yours underheel? Is it an honor to be robbed of your dignity? And the use of your own body?"

"It is an honor to be the chosen of the god, to be one with her people, to do wonders-"

Anger seethed in her mind and she interrupted him sharply, "Do you want to hear what it's really like? Do you?"

He was silent as she breathed harshly. She couldn't turn her head to look at him and in the corner of her eye, she only saw his hand, paused in midair, the soapy sponge dangling from the end of it and she continued, "It's like riding atop a tide of corpses and they keep grabbing at you and clutching at you, violating you. You've gone deaf from all the shrieking you've done and no matter how much you fight, they keep touching you with their cold dead hands. And you're absolutely terrified because you know someday they won't be content just holding you, someday they're going to tear you apart or pull you down. And there's nowhere to go even if you could get away because from horizon to horizon, there is nothing but the dead."

She stopped and listened hard. He seemed to have stopped breathing over there, and she could tell from the stillness of the air that he'd stopped moving as well and a glimmer of hope struck her. Maybe she'd finally gotten through to him, maybe he'd finally heard her words. _Let him see, goddess, please let him see._ That hope was crushed as his hands once again set about cleaning her flesh and she closed her eyes tightly in bitter disappointment. She whispered, "That's you. That's all of you. The dead. You've killed what was truly alive in you. And rejoiced in it. If I could weep for you, I would. But I'd have to be a much better person than I am to do that."

There was a beeping and her caretaker stood wordlessly, answering his omnitool far enough away where she couldn't make out more than one word in five. Inigo sounded surprised at first, then angry as he said, "No!...told you...not ready. What...mean? They're...? Of all the...no, it'll be as you say, Dama...it's on your head."

Her heart thumped as his footsteps approached her once again, and his hand appeared in her field of vision to press the button that would drain the tub. As the water slowly whirled away, the turian lifted her bodily and set her against the wall, wiping her down with a soft towel in brisk, abrupt motions. He looked... concerned and uncertain, a combination she'd never seen on his face before and it made her ask, "What's happened?"

Inigo jerked his head at the sound of her voice, nearly dropping the towel and she blinked at this lapse in his control. He ignored her question, which only made doubt gnaw on her insides until they quaked with dread. When he started dressing her in the first clothes she'd been allowed since she'd got here, she became truly frightened. The balance was shifting, something was about to change and the need to know what was happening, what they were about to do to her became overwhelming. She caught his gaze in desperation and begged, "Tell me, please, if you have even a shard of mercy left in you, tell me. I beg."

And for once, she saw something there, deep in his eyes before it was buried once again by that horrifying lack of doubt, that hideous blind faith that was all he allowed in his mind and he smiled gently at her, as if to comfort but it only made her unease grow. He held her close and whispered, "It's time."

"No..." Her mouth dried as she realized what he meant. "No! Nononono."

He put his hand over her mouth to quiet her, but she just moaned the one word over and over again into his palm. Attendants filled the room to carry her to her new place of glory, and she watched helpless as they brought her into a room she'd never seen before. It was massive and hemispherical, the floor was mirrored plate that reflected the calm visages of the statues that inhabited it and the huge face of Shepard that hung over it. She blinked, disoriented as she was deposited on the ground at the exact center rather roughly. In a crumpled heap, she listened to the people around her as they muttered in low conversation, hushed as though in a cathedral, which she realized this was. A cathedral...and a tomb, her living tomb.

A feeling swept over her limbs and she watched, sickened, as her hands began to move of their own volition, to rest on the floor and push her up. Her other muscles also came into play, controlled from without and made her stand. Inigo, his expression now proud, stood before her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She tried to force her body to move away, attack, run, anything and got nothing, not even a twitch to indicate she had any control at all. He plucked the bit out of her mouth deftly, "There, that's better. We don't have to worry about you swallowing your own tongue any more."

"Don't do this. You wo-wuh-what?" Astonished, she felt herself rise from the floor, the flash of a kinetic barrier springing into life around her, three layers deep. Her hands thrust out to control her flight, blue light blazing from her fingertips in a dazzling display of biotic power.

"Begin integration." Inigo intoned as he stepped away from her, his eyes shining in rabid awe.

A shock flooded through her as she was slowly forced to meld with those millions, their connections snapping into place with an agonizing languidness. Her consciousness began to expand and she cried out in agony, it was like acid was slowly eating its way through her brain, turning the her that was Susan into so much goo. And then what would be left? They were devouring her bit by bit. "Stop!"

"Here is the god! Reborn!" Inigo shouted in jubilation, echoed by these dead men that surrounded him.

"By all that's truly holy, no more!" It was getting harder to speak, her lips just wouldn't obey. She tried one more time to appeal to her jailor, "You said you love me, how could you do this to someone you love?"

"It is because I love you that I do this. You are the Shepard."

She screamed in climbing crescendo until her own ears were ringing from it. Sense and reason were fleeing and her hold on this plane was so very tenuous, a single thread, no more.

A sensation like a spear thrusting into her side but off her cry and made her gasp in breathless anguish. She sought the source unthinkingly, her mind skittering along millions of lightyears in seconds, jumping from penitent to penitent, until she found the intrusion into her domain. Fleeting thoughts and images flooded her mind from countless soldiers and one leapt to the fore, a turian on a hill, the light catching on a scope before shattering pain and nothingness. She yelped and 'jumped' sideways, closer and her breath arrested when she finally focused on him, on them as they tore through the ranks of her followers with savage skill and tenacity. The voices at her back screamed enemy, but with the last conscious piece of her that was left, she knew this to be the very opposite of true.

And they were close, so close, driving toward her with determination, only a single system away and she knew, she _knew._ She wrestled for control of her own mouth, the one that belonged to her and only her and turned it to the one at her feet, the one who _lied_, and watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened with shock at her joyous words that rang out a resounding, "He comes!"

* * *

"Geth fleet guard the relay. Liara, Javik, you have the flank, harry their fighters as they come out. Kaiden, James, Caesar, you're with me and Ushal. Jack, Grunt, Wrex, clean house, destroy those empty carriers, but try not to hit the center. That's where they'll have her." Marcus barked orders as he ran to the shuttles, his comms open to the whole damn fleet. Sometime during this short, bloody campaign, he'd found the reins in his hands and found them to be remarkably easy to hold.

Fractious personalities aside, the crew fell into place behind him with startling ease and he was reminded again that they'd been fighting together for over three decades now. Humbling, to be the one at their head, to be the one they relied on for leadership. And he was doing his damnedest not to let these people down, people he was starting to feel were his, was starting to care deeply for.

He shifted anxiously as the shuttle lifted off the decking and peered out a port. The station spun sedately out there, seeming unaware of the hell that was coming its way. It's offset rings cut through the cloudy nebula that surrounded it. At intervals around its edges, he could see docking berths, of which six were unoccupied, all but one of those ships destroyed by the ones that the enemy had hoped to enshrine therein. He bared his teeth at their arrogance and blind stupidity. If the galaxy were a more just place, they'd have never been allowed this...offense. But better late than never. Now they would reap it, this would be a crippling blow.

"Here." Kaiden said, handing him something wadded up in cloth.

Puzzled, he unwrapped it and found himself looking at an old worn metal badge. Two gold lines over the silhouette of a bird of prey. He ran his thumbs over its slightly bowed surface in wonder. He knew that symbol, had left it on a tattered bit a paper in the temple on Omega all those months ago, almost a year now, when he'd assassinated all those men. He swallowed and said to the humans who were watching him, "I'm not him."

"Yeah, we know. You're not nearly as funny." James said, scratching his head, where the hair was turning grey with age along the sides. "But I think he'd want you to have it."

Marcus set it on his vambrace, where it sealed to his armor magnetically.

"Plus for shock and awe, symbols can be...ah, useful." Kaiden said, almost apologetically. "That's what we're going for, right? Shock and awe?"

"That last outpost looked pretty shocked when we rolled in. Ran like rabbits, too scared to notice that we were doing a lot of shooting but not really working too hard on actually hitting anything." James chuckled, "I wonder how many had to cycle their armor through the sonic cleaner."

"I find it best not to speculate, though from the awkward way some of them were running..." Marcus smiled as they laughed.

Ushal cocked his head and Marcus marveled again at seeing his friend actually in a shell, something he'd never thought to see. Ushal had seemed to have a strange aversion to using mech bodies before. The AI said, "The data I have for organics states that the impulse to defecate in flight or fight situations comes from an instinct to drop all excess mass in order to flee danger faster."

"Says the man who never had to try to run with a pantload of-" James drawled.

"She is there." Caesar said, interrupting what was shaping up to be a really disgusting train of conversation. The taa'ih pressed his muzzle to the glass viewport and pointed at the center, where Marcus had guessed they'd want to keep Susan. He was glad to find his instincts had been right.

Marcus checked his gear again and said, "Ushal, can you unlock that airlock remotely."

"Working on it." Ushal stilled, unnaturally. His metallic quarian features going slack.

"It's kind of weird having a geth on the squad." James said, not in any way hostile, but just stating it plainly.

"I know, right?" Kaiden said, looking at Ushal curiously. "I mean, we had EDI."

"Yeah, we had EDI, but except for the once, she never shot at us." James sighed, "And now they don't even look like geth any more. I tell ya, the universe just keeps getting stranger and stranger."

"Ushal has saved my butt more times than I can count. I don't care that he's an AI. He's my friend." Marcus couldn't help the note of resentment that snuck into his tone.

"Aw, don't get all frosty on us, Grim. We don't mean nothing by it. It's just a...reminder, of how much everything's changed." James leaned back and closed his eyes, "Getting old sucks."

"I hear you." Kaiden said, ruefully, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Better than the alternative."

"Is it? Shepard died and now she's gets to be worshiped. Guess she finally got that promotion."

"Jeezus, Jimmy, hell of a thing to be joking about." But the human smiled anyway, chuckling at Vega's nerve.

"Meh, they're wrong anyway. If they'd seen her shitfaced, or God, _dancing_..." James laughed throatily, "They'd never believe she was the second coming."

"Yeah, she was human." Kaiden said, his eyes far away, "Only human."

There was a moment of silence as they all contemplated this. Marcus heard what they'd meant in that silence. That she'd been mortal, like his uncle had once told him. But considering what he'd seen then, he had serious doubts as to what that meant exactly. What was a man? He felt in him a certainty that a person was more than the sum of their parts. More than the crude matter they were made up of. Without the genius of sapient expression in all its complex and wondrous variety, all they amounted to was a...bag of dirty water.

And he had to believe that people were more than that. H2O and trace elements? No there had to be something else there. Something _more._

There was a deep feeling in him then, an undercurrent that was almost understanding, like he'd touched some basic truth. His introspection was broken by Ushal's smoothly mechanical voice, "The airlock is open. I will direct the shuttle to meet it."

Marcus stood and adjusted his cowl to settle more comfortably on his shoulders. The men stood with him, Caesar rumbling eagerness as he unsheathed his curious halberd, its long haft unfolding to lock into straightness. Marcus turned to them, "Alright, boys, let's go get Susan."

"Are we actually going to knock on the front door this time?" Vega was watching him with amusement.

He smirked back and said, cocking his hip, "Of course. Anything else would be unforgivably...rude."

"Ha, I think maybe he does have a sense of humor hiding in there after all." Kaiden said, pounding James on the back. Marcus leapt lightly down into the airlock.

"Maybe, maybe. The jury's still out." James replied, hopping down into the umbilicus with them. Ushal was already busy at the controls, while Marcus took a deep breath and let it out, his every sense sharpening, ready for anything.


	5. Chapter 5

Except maybe for this. Through many a firefight, he and his small squad had finally won through to the place Caesar was leading them, not that it had been particularly difficult. Every major corridor had led straight to it and as he looked up, utterly astonished at the sight before him in this room, the heart of the Cradle.

She was there, not hidden like the others had been, not entangled in wires and tubes and harnesses. And she was flying. She floated between ceiling and floor, her face set in serene authority, gazing up at the stone visage of her father emptily. She was clad in white leather, an imitation of light armor, but more ostentatious, with a high collar and knee high boots. Blue flames licked around her figure, swirling and mixing with the purple of her barriers to create a ring of light about her head, where the tentacles writhed slightly. And though, physically, she was small in that enormous space, she seemed to fill it completely. He felt a chill roll through him at the uncanny sight. He called, "Susan!"

No answer and she was out of reach, even should he jump. He turned to Caesar, "Can you do anything?"

"No. She is not all there." The taa'ih spread his hands helplessly, clearly also at a loss. "They have built walls around her mind."

Marcus looked around, maybe there was a suspension field generator or even something to pull over and stand on to reach her. But there was nothing, just statues he doubted they'd be able to move. He paced under her and growled in wordless frustration. Maybe if they'd brought rope. A vision of him leading Susan along by a tether like she was a balloon had him almost smiling, but he suppressed it in light of the seriousness of the situation.

"Is the prodigal son stumped?" That hoarse voice had him spinning, weapon at the ready. His squad gathered at his back as he was confronted by a turian at the head of a virtual cohort of enemy troops. A turian whose bare face was hideously disfigured from the cheeks down and Marcus remembered security footage of this man, this was the one who'd tortured Massani, who'd taken the intel he'd gotten from the human and used it to kidnap Liara and the others. And he seemed to be waiting for Marcus to say something.

He drew his browplates down in puzzlement, "Who are you?"

There was a flicker of rage in that man's eyes and there was something...familiar about his stance, "How soon I am forgotten. No matter, it was never my destiny to be remembered. I was never the favored one."

Shocked by something in him that tempted the thought of something lost, Marcus searched that face, looking for landmarks, clues to this man's identity. He felt he should know it somehow. And his gaze kept getting drawn back to those baleful blue eyes.

"He looks like you, Grim." James said from his shoulder and then it clicked and his eyes widened.

"Inigo..." Shame at not recognizing his own brother flooded his veins. But beyond the mere physical resemblance, there was nothing left of the boy in his memory. Inigo had been a difficult child, full of contrariness and disbelief, doubt and bitterness. But somewhere along the line, this man who moved so confidently, with utter conviction, had risen to eclipse that troubled boy. He found it nearly impossible to reconcile the two and shook his head in denial.

"See him try to care now. See him feel guilt at not remembering his own brother." Inigo laughed, a rough sound, "When we were kids, he didn't care either. We only played _his _games, followed _his _rules. Even then, we were his pawns. Is this really a man worth following? A man who has already killed one brother through his own pride? Aleia told me how he wouldn't bend, even after she put a bullet in Paulus' head."

That wasn't how it happened and confused, he watched his brother, who was appealing to the ones in his care, like James and Kaiden were just going to forget what had happened to their friends. Marcus stepped forward and snarled, "And what of the youth who robbed a house and murdered a female and her unborn child for waking up at an inconvenient time? For a handful of credits."

"I was twelve when father sent me to the penitentiary, Marcus. Do you know what happens to a boy in prison?" Inigo flashed a hate filled grin, all flashing teeth and flared mandibles and absolutely zero humor, "Well, among..other things, that boy learns to be faster, smarter. I learned how to survive and I learned that no matter how far down you've been beaten and kicked, there's always someone there willing to put their boot in, too. And it was my own dear family who'd been the first to knock me down."

"Inigo, I-" Marcus didn't know what to say to him really. Maybe he was right, maybe Marcus should have cared more, been more watchful. Maybe the root of his brother's resentment was all those times Inigo had been excluded from the tight bond he and Paulus had shared. It was another nail in his heart, another sorrow to add to the long list.

"I should thank you really. Without all that, I would never have found my destiny. Never would have made my way here." Inigo held his hands up toward Susan, who was the soul of impassive disregard up there. His soldiers shifted behind him into readiness and Marcus tensed, knowing that any second now... Inigo dropped his burning gaze back onto Marcus, a triumphant smirk spreading one long mandible, "I have found my place and you will never take_ this_ from me, brother."

He found that once again, his instincts had saved him. A quick roll had him flush up against the statue of Wrex, a hail of bullets chasing him. He was silently grateful for the krogan's bulk as fire rained into the marble edifice. Activating his tactical cloak, he leaned out of cover and picked off two men, only to have two more take their place. Kaiden and James had found similar hiding places to crouch behind, while Caesar flickered wildly in and out of sight to avoid getting hit. Marcus looked around for Ushal and spotted him halfway up the wall, the geth was climbing by simple means of thrusting his hands into the marble, using his robotic strength to anchor himself. Brilliant machine was going for Susan. Marcus felt a flush of pride at the ingenious AI's audacity.

A sudden shout as the geth was spotted and fire was directed that way and while the bullets did little actual damage, he could see that it was making the machine's position tenuous. Marcus rolled out of cover with a shouted, "James, Kaiden, cover Ushal!"

They soon had the enemies' attention focused back on them and they worked the crowd at the door methodically until there was quite the stack of bodies there. Marcus was running low on heatsinks and knew that the others were probably close to empty as well and he spared a glance for the geth, who was nearly over Susan now, was slowly extracting a device from his carryall. Marcus knew it was one of the collars, the ones to break her away from their collective and sent a prayer for him to succeed as the turian's regard was once again drawn to the assault that threatened to overwhelm them all.

Caesar had sprung into the group twice now and laid waste around him for a few seconds before being forced to retreat. Inigo kept himself far back in the ranks, directing the waves with short barking orders. Marcus listened with half an ear, impressed. Under other circumstances, in better times... A kernel of warmth filled him, out of his control. His youngest brother was brilliant, could have been great, would have been, if only... He tried with little success to quell this feeling, in case it prompted him to hesitate at a crucial time and cost them everything. What if it made him hold back and Susan died because of it, or James, or Kaiden or any of them?

It was then he realized what a dishonor it would be to hold back. They might be on opposite sides, Inigo might have been an undisciplined brat in their youth, but he was a man now, and deserved all the consideration that entailed. He'd made the decision, he'd chosen his side and he deserved to be recognized in his brother's sight. If only, he'd seen this sooner. Marcus pushed off all regrets for now and sharpened his wits. It was no longer a battle between him and his brother or him and his conscience. It was a fight against a clever and resourceful enemy, brilliant and worthy of respect.

As he thought this, his clip went dry and he holstered his firearm in favor of the omniblade that flicked out of his wrist. Take away their advantages, numbers, endless ammo. He signaled to Kaiden and James to follow and activated his cloak before running into melee range. The two humans shouted their charge, drawing enemy fire. Those who stood in the front ranks ready to shoot his squadmates went down as Marcus and Caesar appeared right in front of them and skewered them on their blades. The disruption gave Kaiden and James enough time to close the distance. Marcus watched with satisfaction as his skilled team blended knifefighting and short pistol barrages into a deadly combination. The sudden change in tactics threw his brother, he could see and smiled. Inigo was good, but not good enough.

And then, he adapted and Marcus cursed the man's cunning as he found himself facing a line of bayonets and Kaiden shouted for him to drop, which he did, trusting the man to know what he was doing. A ball of blue energy flew over him and hit the soldiers, making them freeze in place. It was followed by a fiery sphere that ignited the cryo blast and triggered a huge explosion that threw the remaining troops in all directions.

Marcus gaped at the two men from where he lay prone. Kaiden said to James, "When did you learn incinerate?"

"I had a lot of down time after you let yourself get taken." Snarked the tattooed Vega. "We can't all just hang around and be adulated by the masses."

"The word is adored. Adulated is...awkward, at best."

"Maybe _they_ think you're adorable. They haven't seen you before you put all that grease in your hair."

A shout from Ushal drew his attention as he groggily stood back up. The geth dropped from the ceiling and latched onto Susan, who didn't shift a hair under the added weight. The machine squirmed about until he had his legs securely about Susan's waist and his hands flew as he worked that collar into place, its socket in the center glaringly empty.

Shuffling and scraping behind him warned him that not all of the enemy were dead and he turned to meet a flashing omniblade thrust that was meant for his heart, parrying it with his own. He found himself once again squaring off with Inigo, whose countenance was stretched in a manic grin as he stalked to and fro, the tip of his omniblade making little figure eights in the air. Marcus could see that he was in trouble. There was obvious skill there and didn't Inigo just know it. The turian said, "Been keeping up on your exercises, big brother? Those things our dear Uncle Garrus taught only you?"

Marcus winced as he barely dodged a lightning swift strike meant for his eyes. The others moved in and he held his hand out to stop them. No, this fight was for them, just the two of them. Inigo was pleased as he took this in, circling to Marcus' left. Marcus turned to keep up with him and waited, baiting him with a quiet, "He was teaching us all. You just never listened."

"All those sermons about justice and responsibility. You know what I found out? There is no justice among mortals, and responsibility is only for the weak. The ones who would be strong if guilt didn't stop them taking what is theirs by the divine right of strength." Inigo grunted as his blade locked with Marcus', his eyes glittering madly in the orange light. The blades sizzled and Inigo braced one foot on Marcus' thigh and thrust out violently, making Marcus stumble to one knee. He rolled with the blow that followed, feeling it breach his shields and slice through his armor like butter. A sudden stinging agony alighted in his side as he flipped back onto his feet, only to have to dive once more as Inigo charged him, clipping his shoulder and making his landing into a clumsy sprawl. The air rushed out of his lungs at the impact and he forced himself into a scrambling run to get some distance between him and his mad brother.

Inigo laughed to see him skitter and let him get back to his feet, confident that in this at least, Marcus was outclassed. Inigo was fast, deadly. Marcus could feel despair at the edges, there was no way to beat Inigo this way. In the corner of his eye, he could see his squad watching, anxiously. At least if he fell, they could finish this and take Susan home. He spared a glance for her, up there, immobile in the jail they had made of her body. Ushal was still busy with that device and was just about to remove his own orb to place it in the collar when a pale blue green hand shot up and captured his. Marcus gasped.

His brother laughed, "The god knows your minds. THE SHEPARD!"

Those full lips on her blank face opened and words fell out of them, her voice but dead of inflection, "Who calls?"

"I am your sentinel. These heretics have breached the Sanctum. Destroy them!" Marcus watched, horrorstricken as her other hand came slowly up and grasped Ushal's face, her biotics flaring and the metal screeched protest as forces outside of his ken compacted that shell, crushing it slowly into oblivion. Ushal's other hand flailed wildly before it latched onto his orb and tore it free, letting it drop to the ground. Marcus saw it hit with a ringing chime that went sour as cracks appeared in its smooth surface. He lunged for the ball only to have his path blocked by Inigo, who shook his head in sinister warning.

Susan drifted slowly downward, her feet not quite touching the floor. Then, she started drifting toward his squad, who seemed frozen in place. Marcus yelled, "Run! Don't let her get close!"

And they scrambled to obey, not daring to strike her, this friend they'd come to rescue. Marcus swept Inigo's next strike wide, wincing as it pulled at the wound in his side. Inigo took advantage of his cringe and kicked that side with his heavy boot, making his brother cry out and fall. Marcus rolled away and suppressed the panic that filled him with all the discipline he could muster. He had to keep a cool head. He thought hard as he did his best not to get skewered.

This wasn't working so, there must be change. Marcus let his mind unravel the possibilities, his strengths versus Inigo's. Physically, pretty evenly matched. Skill with hand to hand, not so much. Everything he remembered about his brother was tossed into this equation. Young, impulsive, Inigo had turned reckless into an art, made his moves here just a tad unpredictable. For most anyway. Not for Marcus and Marcus realized that this entire time he'd let himself be manipulated into reacting, just reacting. Well, now it was time to act.

Thusly resolved, Marcus started to work the angles. The statues, the room, even the fighting group of people behind him became part of his strategy. He started anticipating Inigo's next move and let him come, taking a cut that was meant for his throat on his chestplate instead. Sparks flew as the armor barely repelled the attack, but it put Inigo in the awkward position of having to reverse his momentum to chase Marcus around the room.

Marcus bided his time with endless patience, taking hits, running, knowing that under that fierce snarl there was a boy who once when denied sweets had had a tantrum for two whole days. That boy was still there, he could feel it. Soon the frustration would take its toll and provide him with an opportunity.

There! A wild swing that drifted just a little too wide left an opening that might as well be an avenue wide. Marcus' vision tunneled on that spot, time slowing like it did when he was in the world of the scope. Dimly, he felt white hot pain flood through his leg, along with the smell of his flesh cooking, but he dismissed it as incidental as his blade struck deep, sliding with ease between ribs and sinew. His mind's eye provided a detailed image of his knife piercing vital organs, slicing through the main artery just right of the heart. Soon, blood would fill the entire chest cavity, flood the lungs, the heart would palpitate desperately to provide the rest of the body with needed blood and oxygen, but only succeed in draining it faster.

Over all this unwanted exposition, his heart sank deeply, and his throat tightened in grief. Inigo sagged against him, knowing himself that he'd lost and Marcus opened the eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut to see blue ones looking back into his in surprise and pain. Inigo's mouth worked soundlessly and they both dropped at the same time. The turian in his arms clutched at him, looking up at him beseechingly. His brother was bleeding out in his lap. The thought galvanized him into action and he almost tore his carryall open in his haste to find medigel. Inigo's hand stopped him, and his voice came choked and weak, "No, it's too late. Unless you have a surgeon in there, too."

The joke, so at odds with what had just occurred, stunned a snort out of him and he held his brother closer, "Inigo, I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you."

"Marcus, don't take this away from me. Don't cheapen it with...platitudes." Inigo's eyes closed, his mouth twisting bitterly.

"Grim, we could use a little help!" Vega shouted and he waved the human to silence over his shoulder. Some things had to be done. Even in the midst of chaos.

Inigo smiled weakly, ruefully, "You're good. Damn you, you're good."

"So were you." His heart thumped painfully, "You are my brother, in every way."

Pride ghosted over his brother's face as his chest stilled in a final sigh. Marcus shifted the body to the floor and just stared, for a moment. Another one, gone. Grief threatened to swallow him whole.

Reality intruded in the form of a shout and a crash and he spun to see Susan lifting statues with a flick of her hand and throwing them at the men who ran before her. Kaiden was down, groaning and James was doing his best keep her attention, to keep her from finishing him. Caesar was bloody, his muzzle striped with slashes. They were managing to stay out of her reach but she advanced, as implacable and inexorable as the tide, her face terrifying in its haughty emptiness.

Marcus cast his gaze about for Ushal's orb, spotting it some distance away. He sprinted for it, drawing her eye and had to dive to avoid a shockwave, enormous in magnitude, much larger than any he'd ever seen thrown before. And his hand closed over the sphere just as he was lifted in one of her singularities, his body refusing to obey his commands. Outside of the bubble, he saw her shadow grow near, saw her slim arm thrust through to grab him by the throat and yank him outside her field.

Her face was beautiful and calm, unnaturally so as her blank gaze fixed on him, pulling him close as her hand flexed around his windpipe, making him choke. He pulled at that arm, but it was useless, he might as well be trying to shift the world for all the good it did. Her other hand came up to rest over his face and he had a horrifying image of his face crumpling inward, just as Ushal's had and his hands jerked to her collar, trying to find the socket. He felt forces beginning to gather around her petite hand and with a short cry, plunged the orb into the device that was made for it.

And the forces continued to build and he felt the first real certainty that he was about to die settle over him as his flesh began to tingle and crawl. He closed his eyes so that at least he wouldn't take the sight of her killing him with him and waited, not quite daring a miracle to occur, but silently, he challenged his brother's assertion that the universe was an unjust place.

Something snapped inaudibly and his eyes popped open to see the floor rushing up to meet him and he landed in an undignified sprawl with an even more undignified squawk. Susan lay crumpled next to him like a puppet with its strings cut and he forced himself to roll and pick her up in his arms. Her eyes were open in her slack face and he quailed at the way her body was limp, as limp as a corpse. Dead weight. He felt for a pulse and sighed in relief as he found one, strong and steady, under his thumb. He croaked, "Susan."

There was a flash, in those eyes, a flicker of awareness and he felt a rush of hope and repeated, "Susan. C'mon, wake up."

He slapped her cheeks lightly and jumped when she moaned. Her eyes slowly blinked and her lips trembled. With glacial speed, those wide green orbs rolled to his and locked and a word drifted out of her mouth. He didn't quite catch it and leaned down to put his ear over her mouth, "What?"

"...no...more..." and he pulled back to see horror dance in her eyes and she said a tiny bit louder, "Inigo, no...more...have mercy..."

She thought he was his brother. He shook his head and said fiercely, "Susan, it's Marcus. We got you back. You're safe."

Despair touched her eyes then, twisted her mouth, "...trap...there is...no...outside..."

"We'll get her sorted after we get her out of here." Kaiden said, his arm flung over James' back, his leg a ruin of pulped flesh. Silently, he agreed and lifted her body in his arms. He limped after them as they exited, the wound in his leg burning now.

Caesar sidled up to him, "I can carry her."

"No." The word came out with more force than he'd intended and he shot an apologetic look at the taa'ih. Caesar gave him a look of understanding and loped ahead to scout the way. Marcus shuffled along, looking down into her face repeatably, just to see her eyes, to make sure she was actually alive there, because it really did seem like he was carrying a cadaver. Her head tentacles hung limply, swinging with his broken stride.

"I...can't move..." Susan's voice, soft and uncertain, pulled at him. "Are...you really..here?"

"Yes, Susie, I'm here. I've got you."

"...I saw...you..." She sighed then, a sound of hope and doubt.

The shuttle had never been a more welcome sight and he jumped in with barely a thought to his leg. The hatch closed with a hiss and Vega slid into the pilot's seat, hands moving surely over the controls. Susan's eyes drifted around the compartment, "I can...see them...see their faces...please, goddess, let this be...real..."

"It's real, Susie, I promise." Marcus said, "Remember the desert? Remember saving your mother? She's waiting for us, out there with the fleets."

He looked out at that station that grew steadily smaller and a noise drew his attention back down to the woman in his lap. With trembling lips and desperation in her eyes, she said, "Marcus, I need...I need to see...the sky."

He nodded, anything for her and turned his comms on even as he fixed a glare on that distant ringed monstrosity of a shipyard that had broken his Susan. He told them, the fleets that waited for his command to destroy that station, he said, "Burn it."


	6. Chapter 6

He twirled the silver leaf in his hand, between forefinger and thumb, marveling at how it glinted. He breathed deeply of the heavily floral scented air and thought how strange it was to be back here, how alien it seemed to him now, though it was home. The house behind him was much the same as it had been for as long as he could remember, though the fields of the valley had indeed been overrun by the carmine blossoms Uncle Garrus had planted. It had nearly choked out the natural moss that used to cover the hills and swells of his ancestral home. But more to the point, it wasn't this that had changed, but him. He was the alien presence here.

His memory whispered to him. There was where he and his siblings raced, over there was where his uncle and grandfather often sat of an evening, behind the house was the sacred grove where his father and mother walked hand in hand. So much of him was born here and yet it felt so distant now. Over these older memories were the ones that had brought him back here and he closed his eyes as he recalled them now.

_'She doesn't want to go to the Citadel. She wants to see the sky. A real sky." His hand swept adamantly through the air between him and Susan's mother. She was looking at him with that angry thwarted cast to her blue eyes that all protective mothers got when denied._

_'Then I'll take her to Thessia.'_

_'They took you from Thessia. I'm pretty sure they know you used to live there.' His tone was sarcastic and he felt guilty when he saw how it bit her. 'She wants to be away from all this. Away from...you, all of you. In time, that might change, but that's what she needs. Time.'_

_He'd looked at their crestfallen faces, gathered as they were outside of the medbay and tried to placate them, 'I know you want to see her. I know that you want to look for your lost commander in her, but don't let that blind you to what** she** needs right now.'_

_'Where will you take her?' Grunt said._

_'I don't-no, there's a place. The place I grew up. I know the land, I can defend it.' He made them a promise with his eyes, 'They won't take her again.'_

And they'd reluctantly agreed, though it meant losing them both when they were needed most in this war. When they were all needed most. The fight had grown bitter. The Shepards fought for every inch and when faced with defeat, would burn their worlds before giving them back. He opened his eyes again and twirled that leaf, worrying for the future.

He watched her over there, on the patch of moss that remained, the garden, where mechs maintained the balance of flora fastidiously. She lay on her back, utterly still because she had no choice but to be, eyes open as she watched the clouds roll by through the hazy atmosphere. Her mother sat nearby and they were conversing in low tones, too low for him to make out, though judging from how Liara's shoulders shook, it was far from harmless dialogue.

"When do you go back to Thessia?" Susan asked mildly, her gaze never leaving that azure blanket up there. Clouds banked and flowed languidly with the wind currents. She wondered if they actually looked like sheep, as the humans say. She'd never seen a sheep.

"Trying to get rid of me so soon?" Her joke fell flat, the tone too light to be anything but false. It was probably the trembling lip that did it. Susan could just see it out of the corner of her eye, quivering there. She felt a flash of slight irritation, wondering if it was manipulative or not. The silence stretched on, becoming more tense and uneasy with each passing second. Liara cleared her throat nervously, "I'm, uh, not."

Huh. "Staying with the Normandy?"

"When I'm...done here, yes." Liara's breath caught in her throat and she reached for her daughter, "Susie-"

"Don't. I won't feel it anyway." She was being cruel, why was she being cruel? She couldn't seem to help herself. She saw light glint off the tears on her mother's face and finally pulled her attention away from that billowing stratosphere that had distracted her from her debilitated state. Her body was a cage she was trapped in. She watched Liara carefully as she said, "What do the doctors say?"

Doubt flitted across her mother's face and she wiped hastily at her face, "They, um, say that it would be unwise to remove the device from your brain stem without deactivating the nanites first. The geth say they have some ideas, but...without testing it first, they don't know if it'll kill you or not. They say it is similar to what the Reapers did to make husks."

"And no one ever tried to bring a husk back." Susan thought about it and said, "Hmm. Death or this, I don't think that's really a choice."

"I...figured as much. They will be here in two weeks, unless you'd prefer to come to the Citadel with me."

Susan fixed her with a stare, cold and distant as though to say, _No, no more games. No more manipulating me._ "I don't want to leave here just yet. I haven't even seen Cipritine yet, wouldn't be much of a vacation if I don't get to see the sights."

She barked a bitter laugh and watched Liara cringe at the harsh sound. There was a long moment where they didn't talk and her mother shifted awkwardly on the grass. Susan felt envy at the ease with she communicated this with just her body. Would she ever regain the means to? She didn't dare hope so, not yet. Liara touched her shoulder, "Susan, about Shepard-"

"You know, I don't remember a time growing up when I felt like...a part of something. I had so many questions and no answers from you. At the time, I imagined you didn't know or that maybe you did know, but I was too young and if I waited, then maybe..." Susan went back to watching clouds, "I waited a long time."

"You _were_ a part of something, a family-"

"Was I? All those trips you had to take as the Shadow Broker? All those times I was alone in that house in the care of a nanny while you, Javik and the twins were off doing what I kept imagining were really fun things. You said they were too young to leave at home. You said you wanted me to keep studying but now I suspect I was being kept...cloistered." Susan let the bitter note wash her tones, unmindful of the shaking of her mother's shoulders, the way she kept wringing her hands together guiltily. "The only time I ever got to see Uncle Wrex or Grandpa Aethyta was when they came to Thessia. Was it shame? Were you ashamed of me, my existence?"

"No..." Horror colored Liara's voice, "Never."

"All I ever wanted, my whole life,...was to belong, to be invited into something bigger than just me, and to find...acceptance. But you set me apart. You set me above. And now I want to know why." Liara was sobbing in earnest now and Susan hardened herself to the painfilled sounds, "Why didn't you tell me Shepard was my father?"

Liara covered her face with her hands and wept, "I-I just...wanted you to...have the chance to...grow up unaffected by...that t-terrible war. You don't know how horrifying it was, how it c-changed...everything. Shepard deserved-she deserved-"

"Did I deserve fumbling in the dark trying to find out who I was? Did I deserve finding out my whole life has been one big joke?" She snorted as though it were actually funny, "Did I deserve _this,_ mother? Was it really so terrible?"

"Susan, your life is not a joke. What I did, I did because I loved Shepard-"

"Love is a lie." Shocked into silence, Liara just sat and watched her daughter watch the clouds with her mouth agape. Susan felt those words leave her mouth in a rush, leaving the taste of ashes behind, a prickle at the corners of her eyes that refused to fulminate into tears. She cursed Makryth, before him she'd never had to hold it in, there was no outlet for the incredible sea of hurt that was in her. She repeated herself softly, "Love is a lie."

It was then that Liara shook herself free of her shock and said fiercely, "Love is _not _a lie. Everything she did, she did for love. Her heart held the whole galaxy in it."

"Now who sounds like a dangerous fanatic?" Susan laughed, a melancholic edge to it.

"You don't understand. She was mortal, so mortal, just like all of us. We're all alike in the depths of us. We all carry the same soul, the same spark-"

"I know." Susan closed her eyes to it, but the knowledge was there waiting for her, "Oh, goddess, don't I know it..."

"You-" Liara said, her breathy whisper carrying a sort of terror stricken awe.

"They pushed, made me do things, made me listen. The walls were so thin, they were so thin-" Her mouth dried as she thought back to when she'd been in the machine, when she'd been mindless, a tool in their hand, nothing more, bent to their will. And at the same time, awareness that there was a balance barely kept, that it was fragile somehow to a magnitude she couldn't even comprehend. And how terrified she'd been that she'd misstep and the whole thing would implode upon itself. "The tethers are still there, I can feel them. I stretch and there they are, all of them. And it screams, how it screams, unable to break free..."

Now her mother was frightened, she could almost smell it on her, her hand covering her mouth. It made her look so young and Susan was reminded that her mother was barely more than a child herself. Susan on the other hand, suddenly felt ancient, the weight of ages settled over her and whispered, "There are...things, on the margins, undefinable, vast. They are as close as your skin and the only reason you can't see them is because they are on edge. But sometimes, they turn and then you see how close they press. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch them and shake in the hope that they never become aware of _you. _ What are they, mother? What am I?"

_"_I don't...know. There's still so much I didn't understand about Shepard."

"Then maybe this was a mistake." Susan bit her lip, drawing in a short hitching breath, "I'm a mistake."

"Susan, no, I never meant-I'm-goddess..." Her mother leaned forward and rested her head on Susan's shoulder, her whole back heaving up and down as she clutched at her daughter, "I have made so many mistakes in my life, but you were not one of them. Never believe that you were a mistake."

Susan sighed deeply, "I'll never be free, will I? Even if the doctors help me walk again, I'll still be her daughter. When people look at me, all they'll see is her. I'll be set apart, as I have always been. I'll be alone."

Her mother shook her head, but how could she deny it? Liara had done it to Susan her whole life and only now realized it. Susan pitied her, would hold her if she could. She didn't know if this was love or obligation, but it prompted her to say, in soft comforting tones, "Don't cry, mother. Things will work out, one way or another. Go home to the Normandy."

"You don't want me to stay?" There was tearful rejection in her voice.

"Watching me be an invalid all day and night is only going to drive the nail further into your heart. I am safe here." Susan didn't let the lie twist her mouth as it tried to do. There was no safety for anyone, anywhere. People going about their daily boring routines were completely unaware of the monsters that swam within hairsbreadth, their quiet contented lives could be swallowed by black maws as big as the sky and they'd never know until the moment they were devoured. "I'll know if any of them come anywhere near this place. No, get back to the fleet. Turn the tide. And-and be safe yourself, mother. I-I don't want to have to come rescue you...again."

That almost made the tears fall and she lamented how they just dried up on the precipice. She smiled kindly at her mother as Liara stood on shaky legs, her tear streaked face haloed by the white clouds overhead. And then she was gone. Fleeing from Susan, from the guilt.

She breathed deep, wished she could feel the breeze that was making the branches overhead sway like that, but the tiny robots in her flesh had control of her nervous system all the way out to her skin. She was surprised she was even left the power of speech and sight, and...grateful. Which was another surprise. That she wasn't cut off completely from the world was...good.

A face appeared over hers and she smiled. Marcus watched her carefully, like he wasn't sure he was welcome in this, his own home, and she said, "Come, sit with me."

With grace, he folded those long legs of his and sat, then rolled onto his back and gazed at the sky with her. She could just see his face in her peripheral, saw how still he'd become. "Blue suits you, by the way."

"I, uh, did it for Paulus. I think my father would have understood."

"Any word about the rest of your family?"

"Well, they weren't here, obviously. No messages, no forwarding addresses." He sighed, "I guess Liara isn't staying?"

"No, she's done enough. Besides, she'll be safer up there, with the rest of them." She glanced at him sidelong, "You should be up there too, helping them sort this thing out. Helping them take back the colonies."

"No, I belong here, with you." Marcus said, matter of factly.

"I don't need a caretaker." She snapped, then looked away guiltily, of course she needed a caretaker. She couldn't even feed herself. She just didn't think she could bear it if he came to-"I don't want you to...pity me."

"Who says I pity you?" He seemed unaffected by her outburst of bitterness and she watched him smirk, "Maybe I need a vacation, too."

She chuckled, "Yeah, see the sights, sample the local cuisine, that sort of thing. On your own homeworld, no less."

He laughed, "A tourist in my own country. Apt. It's home, but it doesn't quite feel like home. I think I've changed too much for it to ever really feel like home again."

Silence fell between them, a comfortable silence. She felt a little less alone for a time and was grateful to him for that. He shifted slightly and a suspicion blossomed in her mind, making her quirk a half smile as she said, "Are you holding my hand?"

"Yes." Frank, but with a touch of chagrin and she would have laughed if she hadn't been busy feeling the pang that shot through her heart.

She sighed, deep and sad, "I wish I could feel it."

Marcus squeezed the limp digits reflexively, his throat tightening as he thought, _I wish you could, too._


	7. Chapter 7

He found Caesar in the forest and leaned against a tree, feeling a wide smile stretch his mandibles. The taa'ih was rolling in a pile of leaves, burying himself in the deadfall, his tail curling joyously as he played. A sight that had him rumbling in humor, "You really are an animal, you know that?"

Marcus was answered by a laugh from the huge furry alien and the shape under the pile shifted to stick his face out from under the leaves, his eyes glowing in contentment, "I do. I do not pretend to be tame as the people of this age do."

"You sound like Javik, with all his 'in my cycle' talk." Marcus said, "How old are you?"

"Very old." Caesar snorted, causing the leaves in front of him to billow up and then he smiled mischievously, "And very young."

"Cryptic. Fine, keep your secrets. And the word is 'civilized', by the way." Marcus looked up into the canopy, seeing how the sun dappled his skin here and there in this quiet place.

"Civilized is only a word. Meaningless, a gloss over your natural savagery. This taa'ih sees the reality under the civility and rejoices. You are all untamed, wild and would have a great deal more fun if you acknowledged it." Caesar rolled onto his belly and peered at the turian who thought so seriously over there.

Marcus was lost in memory for a moment, all those times he'd been fighting, a millimeter away from death and felt joy, felt exultation in it, dancing on a knife's edge. Heart pounding, his breath fast and quick as he strove to defeat the enemy that strove to defeat him. He knew now that his foe felt as he did, knew this marrow-deep elation. He shook himself free of it and fixed the taa'ih with one blue eye, looking at him sidelong, "I'm not going to roll in leaves, but I can see what you mean."

Caesar sniffed and thought, _You see it but you do not **know** it...yet._ Aloud, he said, "You sought me for a reason?"

"Yeah, I wanted..." He wasn't sure how to proceed with the request and sat diffidently on a tree bole, fallen recently. Marcus reorganized his thoughts and started again, "Since this whole mess started, I feel like I've had to overcompensate for my lack of insight into the enemy's tactics. Logistically speaking, over seventy percent of my encounters have ended in close combat, with knives or hand to hand. Not exactly my forte."

"You do well enough."

"I'm-it isn't good enough. I need to know how they think, what they're planning. This...teleporting thing they do, is there a delay? Is there a pattern?"

"I can not teach you this thing. It is not learned through teaching." Caesar rumbled, not sure where this was headed, but intrigued by the bright lances of thought that flashed through his friend's mind.

"I just need to know how to counter it, how to account for it. How to spot the ones that can do it."

Now the thought solidified and Caesar grinned savagely as he watched it settle into the firmament of Marcus' mental landscape, "You want to spar with me."

Marcus started, then shot a suspicious look at the taa'ih, "Are you reading my mind?"

"Not really. The mind is like cloudy water, sometimes things float to the surface. Easy to see without having to stick one's hands in it."

"Hm. Yes, I want you to spar with me. Show me how you make the decision on where to jump to, the why of it." Marcus saw the taa'ih think it over, saw that long tail twitch from side to side and an unreadable expression drop over the being's face, though his eyes danced with mischief. The turian tensed, not sure why.

Caesar shifted slightly, subtly tamping down with his hindquarters and fought to keep the grin off his face. Marcus could sense something was amiss and shifted himself, though it was clear he wasn't sure what to expect. The taa'ih crowed silently, inwardly pleased at the man's intuition, yes, he was worthy.

Marcus saw Caesar's paws flex and it clicked, "Wait, I didn't mean now-!"

"No better time!" The taa'ih roared as he sprung out of his bed of leaves in a leap that cleared the distance, that seemed to defy gravity even.

Marcus watched that massive shape eclipse the sun overhead and for just one second, froze like a prey animal before his battle honed instincts kicked in and he rolled off the log just as Caesar landed on the spot he'd just vacated, tripping him with a swipe of his long arm. Marcus stumbled and turned it into a somersault. Distance, he needed distance. He ran. Only to bounce off a furry chest that appeared before him. He barely managed to duck a swipe meant to knock his head off and lashed out with a leg, nearly falling onto his ass as it failed to hit the taa'ih who was no longer there.

He spun, trying to spot Caesar in the suddenly quiet forest, "Sneaky bastard."

"You will have to move faster, think faster." Caesar said from right behind him. Marcus crouched and spun, ready to defend himself. But there was only empty forest there. Warily, he shifted so his back was to a tree and waited.

Feeling a subtle shift in the air, he dropped just as the taa'ih's huge paw came around and scored the bark deeply. Marcus reached to grapple with the being, only to have his hands close on nothing but strands of fur that slipped through his fingers like air. And he was gone again, Marcus cursed, "Damn."

"Predict my next move, do not just react to it."

How was he supposed to predict the unpredictable? A huff to his right had him turning to face the charging taa'ih, bounding through the underbrush like an enraged varren, his maw stretched in a manically cheerful smile. He planted his feet to meet the being head on, drawing his arm back for a punch. As he commited to the strike, Caesar flickered and popped out of sight, and his fist swung through empty space, leaving him horribly off balance. A shadow blossomed around his feet and he had just enough time to say, "Aw, crap."

Before he was summarily crushed under the taa'ih's bulk, flattened to the forest floor by the being's greater mass as he dropped from overhead. The breath knocked out of him, he could only stare bemusedly up at the beastman's self satisfied smirk, huge teeth flashing in the sun not an inch from his nose. "I have had long practice at being unpredictable. You are lucky that those ones out there do not think three-dimensionally. That they barely think at all."

"What do you see when you look in their minds?"

"They are flat, hard, flavorless. Lashed together crudely. It is not a...natural understanding." The taa'ih shifted slightly, as though to get more comfortable and dropped his head onto Marcus' chest with a sniff. "It is a stunted, shallow thing."

Silence stretched as he thought about this. He wasn't sure of the exact meaning Caesar was trying to impart and filed it away for now, to contemplate later when he wasn't struggling to fill his lungs under the taa'ih's considerable weight.

"Okay, you can get off me now." Marcus flailed his one free arm to no avail, he was well and truly trapped.

"No." Caesar rumbled with a laugh, "I think I will take a nap."

After a few minutes of fruitless struggle, Marcus resigned himself with a sigh. He reached up and pet Caesar on the head, fingers sliding through silky fur, as he had in the past when he'd been marooned on that ice planet and they'd had to share warmth in a way much like this. Back when he'd thought the taa'ih was a beast. Odd how he accepted the being's closeness even now, "You're lucky I'm not a biotic."

"If you were able to command the secret fire, I would have done things differently. There are always ways to counter any force."

"Even yours?"

"Of course. I am flawed, _ash'shuarra_, mortal, like any. It is only through understanding why the river runs one way that it can be turned a new route."

"Teach me?"

"After my nap, now shh."

* * *

"We need you." The QE image of Kaiden crackled, "We're a man short on this mission. Everyone else is committed to other priorities."

Angrily, Marcus paced, "Three days til the surgery, Kaiden. Just give me three days. She needs me here."

"There's no time. If we fail, then the whole quadrant will be fried. This scorched earth thing they're doing is a real bastard." Kaiden's eyes tracked his movement with sympathy, "If there was anyone else who could do the job, you know I'd have called them instead."

"Can you guarantee I'll be back in three days?" He leaned on the console and glared at the human.

"We'll have you on the fastest ship there and back. The transport carrying the planetkillers is passing close to the border. Eight colonies are on the line, Vakarian. Eight. Just under twenty thousand people."

"Twenty thousand of _their _people."

The human fixed him with a stare, brows furrowed, "Really? And they're not worth saving, is that it?"

"How do you know they're not just going to kill themselves anyway?" He felt a touch of chagrin then and sighed, "Look, I know, alright. Just...fuck...send the damn ship."

"It's already on its way."

"One of these days, you're going to call and I'm just going to hang up on you." He jabbed a talon in the man's direction, suddenly furious that he would presume to such a degree.

"I'm sorry, Marcus. See you tomorrow." Kaiden flickered out of sight and Marcus pounded the console with his fist, frustrated.

How was he going to explain this to Susan? He covered his face with one hand and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and walked from the comm room to find her. After a detour to get his kit together.

She was in her room, one that he'd had set up for her comfort. She was reading, the monitor in front of her programmed to respond to her voice or eye movements. She smiled as he stepped in, watching him take his customary seat in the armchair to her right. A slight frown creased her forehead as she took in his nervousness. And the armor he'd donned instead of the loose pants and tunic that he'd favored for the last couple of days, she asked, "What's the matter?"

"Something's..something's come up. They, um, need me to take out some transport near the border. Its cargo is planetkillers." He leaned forward with both elbows on his knees, hands steepled together before his face, chin resting on his thumbs.

"But the surgery's only three days away." She grimaced slightly at the words that came out more petulant than she wanted.

"I'll be back in time. I better be back in time." He growled that last softly, anger at Kaiden and the universe at large in his tone, that it couldn't leave him alone for three more fucking days. He picked her hand up from where it lay and looked at her in earnest apology, "I am so sorry, Susan."

"No, go. I'll be-I'll be fine." He could already hear the whine of a shuttle approaching. She put a brave smile on her face and said, "They need you. I just wish I was able to go with you."

"You will be able to, I know it. You'll be safe, I already hired extra security." He stood, "Anything you need, just tell them or the nurses."

"Marcus, I'll be fine, there's already enough security out there to guard the whole council. Just go and be safe."

Marcus pressed his mouthplates to her temple, closing his eyes tight against the welling of trepidation in him. He'd just got her back and now he was leaving. He felt so cruel for leaving her for even this long, "Caesar will be here, too. For conversation, if nothing else."

His concern was touching, but she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of resentment and did her best to dismiss it as she said goodbye. She looked out the window as he hopped into the shuttle that barely touched down and sighed, feeling left behind and useless.

He caught a glimpse of her face as the shuttle took off through the window and grimaced at the lost look there, swearing to himself that when he came back, he'd make it up to her somehow. That didn't quell the uneasiness that made him shift in his seat.

* * *

It took five days. And everyone was no doubt aware of his displeasure by now. He'd been very...vocal, to put it mildly. To the point that they all avoided eye contact now. Kaiden and Zaeed stood diffidently off to one side while he nearly vibrated in his chair with rage.

And he'd had no news, not a single word from home as to how she fared. They'd been confined to radio silence for the whole op and sometime during their search for the vessel, their prey had gotten wind of it and the pursuit had become a shadow game, bouncing around planets and using the magnetic interference of stars and nebula to fool sensors. If time hadn't been so pressing, he'd have praised them their ingenuity.

It had taken four days to find them, and only an hour to sink them. He remembered the frenzied boarding action as a blur. His fury filled charge into the enemy ship, the soldiers who guarded the weapons of mass destruction, seemed wholly shocked by his ferocity as he tore through them. It was pure slaughter. At the end of which, he'd turned to his companions and said, nearly spitting the words, "Take me back."

So, now he was on a cramped ship, a two man affair that was just a bit bigger than a fighter, and held three in a way that could only be described as uncomfortable, if you were kind. Joker was piloting, wearing the ship like a shell and he must have sensed the tense atmosphere because his everpresent snarkiness was markedly absent. It got so the silence was even getting to him and Marcus said, "Two days. If she didn't make it, she will have been dead for two days, Kaiden."

"Na, she ain't dead. Little operation couldn't kill that tiny blue spitfire." Zaeed ground out, grunting as he tried to stretch out in that cramped space. Marcus turned a hot glare on the human as he was jostled by an armored elbow, and the human half smiled in chagrin, his scar puckering with the action, "Sorry. Shattered my elbow once or twice. Now it likes to remind me how old I am."

"Liara's there, isn't she? Surely, she'd have commed if something went wrong." Kaiden said.

"Liara was going to be there, but I don't know, do I." He growled, "_Someone_ pulled me away five days ago."

The ship crested the last hill and the valley opened up beneath them, a veldt of red flowers and brambles, the unconquered forest dark to the south, his home situated on its edge, the only clear place. Massani whistled, "That's the ol'homestead, eh?"

They drew closer and his breath halted as he spotted two blue figures on the lawn, waving at the approaching vehicle. Heart thumping, he clutched at port's sill and said, in an overloud voice, "Land this thing, Joker."

"Alright, sheesh. Give the man a squad and he gets all..bossy."

"Land already." As on that transport, the next few moments were a haze as he opened the hatch and leaped from the vessel before it even touched down, running out to her where she smiled weakly and stopping just short of her, though everything in him was screaming at him to lift her up and spin her around. He pulled back arms that reached as though they had a mind of their own and rubbed his neck anxiously. He looked down into her amused jade eyes and said, "Are you-? Is it-"

"I told you I'd be fine. I could use a hug, though."

Laughing, he enfolded her gently in his arms, near trembling with relief. He could feel how shaky she was, how little resistance to his pulling she did, like she was barely standing erect and his heart thumped at how near a thing this was, how the possibility of losing her affected him.

A snort behind him from the ship's loudspeakers made him jump, Joker said, "Cheese."

"Total cheese." Kaiden remarked with a smile on his face as he went to stand near Liara, whose smile was near incandescent as she watched her daughter.

Marcus fixed them all with a mock angry glare, mock because all rage had flown when he'd spotted her, standing, waving, leaving him dizzy, elated, "Well fuck you_ ver_y much."

Zaeed ground out a laugh in that gravelly voice of his and dropped a hand on Susan's shoulder, "Ready to go back to the front?"

Liara made a disapproving noise, "She will not be fit for at least another three weeks. There was a lot of damage, the nanites nearly burned out her nervous system."

Susan sighed and rolled her eyes, "Much as I hate to admit it, she's right. I'm not looking forward to the physical therapy though."

Marcus put his arm about her waist to give her a little support and she shot him a grateful look, he marveled at the little things, like how she turned her head gracefully on her neck, how expressive her hands were when she spoke. All these things he hadn't realized were missing until now. And speaking of missing, "Where's Caesar?"

"He wandered off." Susan smiled at him secretively and he returned it, with a chuckle. She shrugged and said, "He'll turn up."

"He always does."

Kaiden and Zaeed were looking from one to the other in faint puzzlement then shrugged themselves. Kaiden said, "Well, we gotta go. There's a meeting with the council we have to go to. They want to discuss what to do with the colonies that are hostile but landbound."

"We should just ignore them until we wipe out their military. That's what I'd do." Massani said, pulling a tag end of a cigarette out from behind his ear and lighting it. Marcus wrinkled his nose at the acrid stink of the smoke. They smelled like they were made of tar and droppings, mostly droppings. Disgusting. How could he smoke those things?

He said, waving off the smoke, "And risk them finding a way to strike at us behind the lines? That's not good either. On those planets are the resources to build more ships, and people who know how, more than likely. What if they start spreading that way, just planet to planet? It would take forever to mop it up then."

"Good point, Marcus. I'll share that with the council when we get there." Kaiden waved as he turned on his heel, Zaeed on his six. He turned to the ancient merc, "You should really quit that habit, Zaeed. It'll kill you."

"Pfft, coming up on my centennial and they haven't killed me yet. I'm bloody immortal, sonny." The two men laughed as they hopped into the ship.

Joker lifted off with a last, "You kids be good now."

They waved the crew off and Marcus turned to Susan with a rumble, "Old soldiers never change."

"Except when they do." She said flippantly, and he smiled at the absurd little comment. Resilient little Susan, he admired her tenacity. Kidnapped, tortured, facing death countless times and she always bounced back. Except for the ghosts still creeping around the edges of her eyes, she was back.

He gave in to temptation and picked her up with a joyous shout, spinning her around, grinning madly to hear her laugh. And he felt that maybe the universe could be kind after all.


	8. Chapter 8

He could see that she was pushing too hard. She was shaking, sweating, but still she moved to attack, all the while speaking, "They called it communion. They were communing with each other, with me."

"You could hear their thoughts?" Marcus said, blocking the strike at half speed then countering with a slow jab she had to dodge with far more effort than either of them liked. He could see it in her face, frustration at not being able to control her body as well as she ought. And the sweat had an off color look to it, an oily sheen that fragmented light. He knew the poisons were boiling their way out of her system through its pores.

"Sort of. When they agreed, it was clearer. Instead of being in a room of people all shouting different things, it became one huge shout. And I could do nothing but obey. They just...overwhelmed me, my consciousness." She kicked low and he met it with a shin, angled to disrupt her momentum and, unbalanced, she nearly fell as black dots swirled in her vision, and vertigo swamped her for a moment.

"Let's take a break." He caught her wrist to keep her from toppling over backwards and waited til she regained some semblance of equilibrium before releasing it.

"I don't need a break, just-just gimme a minute." She panted and bent over at the waist, hands on her knees.

Marcus handed her a towel and she wiped at her face and chest. Over the last week, he'd watched her go from tremendously unsteady with occasional bouts of twitching seizures to this. She'd won control of her body but effort, any effort at all, still cost her dearly in energy. That she'd come so far in such a short time was nearly miraculous, he'd heard it from the doctors himself when they thought he wasn't listening. Just another example of her tenacity.

And yet, for her, it wasn't near good enough. He saw the anger brewing there, deep in her eyes, and he worried, he seemed to worry a lot where she was concerned.

"Do you remember everything about being in the communion?" Marcus almost winced himself as she cringed for a second, lips pulling back slightly.

"I remember enough of it. More than enough. I was nearly mindless, but there were thoughts, feelings that had to be my own. I hope they were anyway." Susan sighed roughly, hand running over her tentacles shakily. She straightened then and gestured for him to take the spot opposite her. He did, crouching slightly in the ready stance. She started with a slow punch, turned easily aside. He countered with a spinning elbow strike, paced to meet her blocking arm evenly.

"How do they do this...communion thing? Not all the races are telepathic."

"It's not really telepathy, it's more like the asari meld. Souls touch, that thoughts transfer too is...incidental. Imagine that every person is alone on an island and the ocean is dotted with these islands and though the separation by water is narrow, it might as well be impassable. And there's countless small islands." She grunted as she struck out with a knee, a blow meant for his ribs and he saw that this time, she was pleased to find her balance uncompromised. Her lips stretched into a grim smile as she continued, "They're building bridges, island to island, with conditioning and exposure to that fluid."

"How do they expose so much of the populace to eezo without people realizing it?" Eezo was a dangerous substance, lethal in large doses and like radiation, could alter a person's genome so their offspring became biotics.

"It's in the food, the water, even in the medigel." Susan twisted her mouth in distaste and spat to one side before pressing her assault. Her moves were growing more erratic and he frowned as he sped up to keep pace with her. "Twisted abuse of power."

"That krogan I assassinated on Omega was there to oversee the construction of a medigel dispensary. I'd wondered at the time why he would have been given such an inglorious assignment." Marcus said with unease. "I wonder if Aria knows."

"It's fucked. It's all fucked." She was getting angrier over there and her wild attacks reflected it, her punches coming faster and harder and for awhile he indulged her, but he could see it wasn't doing her any good to overwork her muscles this way. Her knees were buckling, her arms barely held aloft.

Marcus stepped back and spun on his heel, heading toward the house.

"Where the hell are you going, Vakarian? I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh, but I am. You want a punching bag, there's one in the garage. But I'm done watching you try to kill yourself with exercise. And not taking breaks like a rational person would." He looked at her over his shoulder, sardonically lifting a brow at her glowering expression.

It darkened further as she yelled, "Oh, I'm being irrational, am I?"

He turned at the door and said frankly, knowing how she hated to be coddled, "Yes, you are."

For a moment, her eyes flickered dangerously and he felt a vibration coming from her, blue light flickering along her limbs and he was reminded of how close to death he'd been at her hands once before, but this was Susan now, fully present, fully aware Susan and he stood steadfastly, trusting her implicitly, his gaze saying as much. Small rocks at her feet wobbled and climbed into the air and her head tentacles began a serpentine dance, coiling and uncoiling.

She blinked and the tension snapped almost audibly and she jumped slightly as the rocks in the air about her struck the ground in a series of little plinking noises. She swallowed before straightening up, "Okay, maybe a little."

"Good to see you coming around. Let's get some food, I'm starving." He entered the house and made his way to the kitchen, where the mechs had already set out a sort of snack table. With so many guests coming in and out, it just made sense to have food always available. Somewhere in the big house, Javik, Liara and the twins were still sleeping, adjusting from shipboard hours to the Palaven day cycle. He plucked a small piece of fruit off a plate and popped it in his mouth. In the corner of his eye, he saw Susan rummaging through the levo foods, making herself a little plate.

They sat opposite each other at a table by the window and he fingered the edge of his cup of cha, unsettled. "How do they fold space, Susan?"

She gazed out into the garden, her eyes drawn to the sky as they were wont to do and tried to find words that could describe the indescribable, "I remember thinking it was easy, when I was in the machine, something about perspective. But comprehending it now without the borrowed cognitive power of millions? No, it's beyond my understanding."

He watched memories play over her face and wished every sorrow gone. "No matter. They were crippled by the loss of so many carriers. This war is heavily in our favor now."

"Yes, but what comes after?" She grimaced, not wanting to tell him that she could still feel them out there, they lurked on the edges of her perception. The surgery, while it had given her mobility back, hadn't been able to silence those voices, just kept them from drowning her, compelling her. The behemoth in her subconscious snarled at the things that had tried to bind it forever and she couldn't help but agree, may they all rot in the afterlife. It was one reason she was eager to get back to the fight. To silence them, silence them all.

"Oh, I dunno." Something in him made him reach out and lay his hand over hers gently and she twitched and turned to look down at it. "Maybe there'll be time for...other things."

Her heart started to pound as his thumb made little circles in her flesh and she was reminded again that she could feel it, that she felt every stroke in her newly awakened skin and her face heated up as she imagined how it would feel all over. Her eyes drifted up to his, where they bored into her intently. And was there something else there now? Something other than just desire in those icy depths? She shivered as a tingle raced up her spine. Intimate as they'd been, it had never seemed to her that Marcus had wanted more. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part and she cleared her throat softly, "What sorts of other things?"

Amazing how that single point of contact seemed to be connected by nerves to all the sensitive areas of her body. Her nipples peaked under her thin strapped top, their tips rubbing the fabric in a way that was growing increasingly stimulating. Heat flashed through her in waves as she watched his eyes grow even more focused, the pupils expanding until all there was left of that cold blue was the thinnest ring around an abyss. An abyss she found herself falling into and she wondered with a feeling both terrified and delighted whether or not he planned to take her right here and now. She squirmed at the flood of heat that dampened her loins at the thought.

Marcus rumbled as he looked into her eyes, wide and clouded with lust. Lust that was also rushing through his veins, making his lower plates shift. He watched her pale teal cheeks color to a deeper cyan. Those soft lips magnetized his gaze as they silently shaped his name and he felt a fleeting sense of wonder at the love, guarded but very much there, he saw in her pale green eyes, it pulled at a memory. An image in a dream that until now had defied recalling. He let his hand dance up her arm, dragging his talons lightly over her lustrous skin. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure and he did it again, earning a moan this time.

He spoke softly, "I don't have much to offer. Hell, this house isn't even mine. And I know that what I do have won't be enough someday. But when I think of never being near you again, of losing...whatever this is...Susan, I don't think I could stand it."

"Are you saying you can't live without me?" She teased lightly, though her heart tried to climb up into her throat when those eyes locked onto hers and she saw a yes way down in there, somewhere near his soul.

He chuffed a small laugh, "Depends on what you mean by living."

"Marcus, I-" A noise from the other room made both of them jump and Marcus withdrew his hand almost guiltily as Javik and Liara entered the kitchen, his eyes cast down at his plate. She lamented the loss of contact, her skin still felt burnt where he touched it and she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She turned to her mother, "'Morning. Or should I say afternoon?"

"Feels like just after midnight. The blessings of shipboard life." Liara sat with them while Javik gathered some food onto two plates. "Always takes me a few days to adjust."

"What have you been doing to make you stink like that? Both of you." Javik sneered as he also plopped into a chair.

"Javik-" Liara said in a sharp reprimand, then smiled a small teasing smile, "It's none of our business what they've been doing. They're both adults."

"We were sparring, on the lawn." Susan rolled her eyes and stood, "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go shower."

Marcus couldn't help but notice that she hadn't touched her food and frowned, looking after her as she left the room. Then, catching Liara's knowing eyes, his gaze skittered back to his own plate, much neglected as well. He speared some more fruit and chewed it thoughtfully as he looked out the window, trying to find whatever it was Susan had found so fascinating in the sky.

"So...Susan seems to be doing well." Liara mentioned, too casually. She was fishing, but that didn't mean he had to bite.

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat. Javik chewed noisily in the silence that followed. Marcus leaned back from the table, "So, you were the Shadow Broker. Or..._are_ the Shadow Broker?"

"Ha, no, 'was' is definitely the case. The current Shadow Broker is doing the job just fine."

His eyes rolled over to hers with a pointed, "But you're ready to step in if he stops doing the job 'just fine'."

She seemed startled at his insight then laughed herself, "I think I wish I could just leave it to others, but I'm finding myself just thinking of this as a hiatus."

"What is between you and Susan, turian?" Javik broke in bluntly, eyeing him with seriousness.

Taken aback, Marcus could only stare and stammer, "I, uh-"

"Javik!" There was iron in that soft voice now and the prothean looked at his mate guiltily.

"I just want to know that he will not hurt her. Am I not her guardian?" Javik crossed his arms, glaring at no one in particular, "I sense his doubt, his hesitation in this place. It is not comforting."

Now Liara was looking at Marcus with speculation and the back of his neck started to warm with a mix of chagrin and irritation. He wasn't comfortable talking to them about this. Turians don't, in general, discuss the particulars of their relationships. Personal, private, preservation of dignity, these were all closely tied together in his mind.

And now they were both watching him with far too much shrewdness for his comfort and he shifted in his seat. Liara in particular seemed to be trying to suck the information out of him with her eyes alone, and he was surprised that he felt compelled to do so, "Doubts, yes, there are those. The hesitation is probably because I moved too quickly once before and people I loved paid for it in blood. I'm...tired of others paying for my mistakes."

He pulled up the long sleeve of his sweats and showed them the strap around his wrist, with its stained leather and buckles, "I killed the woman who...gifted me with this reminder a month ago. Yesterday, I sent her preserved remains to what's left of her family here on Palaven. They sent back a box with some of her effects in it, things that they thought her bondmate should have. Her bondmate. If you know anything about turians, you know what it means to commit to that level."

"That dead female was your mate?" Javik asked, surprised, "And she betrayed you."

"So many people died because of her, like my-" He took a deep breath, "Like my brother Paulus. She'd wormed her way into my squad, and my heart and then used it to destroy us. So why can't I just take this off? I look at it, I know it's just a symbol. But knowing it and feeling it are two separate things."

He could feel her eyes on him as he contemplated the strap. It was such a simple thing, a twist there just at the wrist and it would fall away. He steeled himself and slowly unbuckled the thing, trying to ignore the tremor in his hands as he peeled it away from its customary place and set it on the table between the three of them. "It's just a symbol, I am no more free with it on than with it off. I loved Aleia and _this_ was what she'd made of it."

He spread both hands palm down on the table, displaying the deep puckered scars that wound around his wrists, offering himself to their scrutiny and for a long while there was silence as they did just that. Really saw him for once. Just a man, and full of a man's doubts. Pushed to the edge and beyond. Sanity won back from the brink, bitterness slowly turning into something...brighter. He sighed, "I can't promise I'll never hurt Susan. And I don't know if it's in me to...love like that again. But I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's happy and safe."

"Even if it means stepping aside?" Liara said, the sympathy in her eyes warring with pragmatism. This was her daughter, after all.

"Whatever it takes." A pang sounded in his heart and he closed his eyes to it.

There was a long moment where no one shifted, then Liara nodded and bent to eat her food, followed by Javik. Marcus tried not to stare at the cuff on the table with little success and jumped when Liara broke the silence, "What's in the box?"

"I don't know. I haven't opened it." Marcus tore his gaze away from the strap, "I don't know if I ever will."

Javik grunted, "My past was a thing that haunted me for a very long time. Perhaps it is time to bury yours."

"Perhaps." But he knew he wouldn't bury the box and the spirit of his brother's murderer in the garden where his parents were buried. It would be...wrong, deeply wrong. He'd just have to be the custodian of her things until he could figure out what to do with them. But he could get rid of that other thing.

Marcus picked it up gingerly and said farewell to Javik and Liara as he headed out into the garden. Near the edge of the forest, there were several mounds, now covered in moss, marked by headstones and he paced by the oldest slowly, reading the names carved there. His grandfather, his grandmother, his parents and at the end, two empty ones. Someone, one of his siblings must have placed the memorials, must have had word that he and Paulus were most likely dead.

He read his own epitaph with an ironic smile on his face. He wondered if it was Lucia or Damalia who'd done it. Oddly enough, it gave him hope that they were still alive out there somewhere.

He ran a hand over the inscription of his name and thought of who was buried here. Was it the younger him? The one who'd dreamed? Or the tortured one? The one who'd hated? Maybe it was both, because at this moment, he felt that he was neither, but some third version of himself, a third life granted at the cost of the other two. And there was a part of him that mourned their loss, missed being them. Because they'd been certain of their purpose, and he was anything but.

At last, he stood before the empty grave of Paulus Vakarian, beloved son of Taltos Cicero and brother to many, even those not of his blood. Marcus took a moment to just remember him, his smiles, his laughs, his huge heart. His kindnesses, often taken for granted. Marcus knelt at the foot of the mound and started digging a hole with his talons, at the bottom of which, he placed that bloodstained device that represented all his failures. He scooped dirt back into the hole and sat back on his heels, talking to the air, "I don't know if I ever made it right, Paulus. She's dead, so...there's that anyway. I guess I should be filled with...I don't know, some kind of righteous sense of justice. But...but I'm not. I'm not sure what I'm feeling. Empty, numb maybe."

He sighed, "What can I do? I'd thought to join you after...that, but what's the point now? It would just be running away and you know what dad would say about that. I can hear him now, responsibility and duty, how many times did he give us those talks of his? You know what I found out? He was quite the maverick when he was younger. If we pulled half the shit he did when we were in basic, we'd have spent eternity on KP."

He laughed, "I'll come up here with that book and read you some of it. It's hilarious."

He was still chuckling quietly when he felt a presence at his back. He turned slightly to see Susan, freshly washed and in clean clothes standing there awkwardly. He reached out and snagged her hand, pulling her down next to him.

Susan had paused in her approach as she heard him laugh, smiling slightly herself. He was sitting at a grave, she saw and her heart dropped a bit as she read the name and read the one next to it. Her brows lifted as he turned to her, a gentle turian smile on his face, mandibles spread in welcome. Then she was sitting next to him, not sure what to say. He resolved this dilemma for her by being the first to speak, "I was just telling Paulus about all the things I found out about our father and uncle."

She nodded, non-plussed, she reached out a hand to the mound, "Is he-?"

"No, he's not in there. He's not on Alchera either. He's somewhere...better." Marcus said, shifting so that his legs were out in front of him and his hands rested on the ground behind him, holding him up. "Maybe it's just silly to think he can hear me."

"No, I don't think it's silly at all. Maybe he can hear you." She blinked and tilted her head back to watch the clouds.

"Hm, maybe." He squinted up at the sky, following her gaze, rolling back onto his elbows. He pointed, "That one kind of looks like a krogan charging."

She laughed, "And you'd definitely know what that looks like."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I never want to see that again unless it's on the other end of a long scope." Marcus hummed, "That was a little too close for comfort."

"You handled it." Her tone said she'd never doubt he could handle anything. Susan rolled down onto her back.

"Barely." He rolled onto his hip and rested his head on his palm, looking down at her with amusement.

Susan swallowed at his nearness, feeling the heat from earlier start to rise. She looked at the vibrant blue markings on his face, thinking how different they made him look, and yet she'd know him if he'd painted himself bright orange all over. There was the bright thread of his song under it all, the tones that made up his essence, far different from the stilted disharmony of those others out there, just on the edge of hearing. It was a balm on her senses and yet, unsettling because she wanted to bask in it all day. She licked her lips as he loomed over her, only a few inches from her face and any words she might have spoken dried up in her throat as the fire of desire started to kindle in his eyes.

He watched her reactions with interest, avidly watching her tongue flick out to wet her full lips and he realized there was nothing about her he didn't find beautiful. It didn't matter that she was asari and he was turian, it never mattered. She was Susan, only Susan. She squirmed under him and he felt the urge to pin her there, barely abated by the slight nervousness he could see flitting around her face. He found himself saying in a teasing tone, almost playful, "What's the matter, T'soni? Too close for comfort?"

She barely checked a girlish giggle, turning it into a small cough to hide the sudden spike in arousal his words caused, though she was pretty sure he could see right through her and his face filled her field of vision and she marveled at how his eyes were the exact same shade as his homeworld's skies and had just enough time to wonder if there'd been some kind of connection there in her need to see one before those thoughts were scattered to the four winds by him pressing his mouthplates to her lips, they flexed eagerly as she kissed back. It was like lightning shot through her and she groaned into his mouth, arching into the hand that had found its way to her breast. Her overly sensitive skin felt like it was on fire, a slow delicious burn.

Their tongues entwined, wetly sliding against each other. He rumbled deep in his chest, and she felt the reverberation glide through her bones, making her weak and shaky. She wanted nothing more than to give in, to let him take her wherever he seemed hellbent on taking her to, but there was a thought intruding and she managed to pull back with a gasp.

Marcus, his head a fog of lust and confusion, pulled away when she started to struggle. He searched her face with worry, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just...I'm not sure a cemetery is the best place for this uh..."

With chagrin, he realized how right she was, "Oh...yeah, that would be...morbid."

"A bit."

"Ha, um...later, then?" Marcus said, rubbing his neck, trying to keep the imploring tone out of his voice. Parts of him throbbed accusingly at him for stopping.

She smiled, her cheeks dimpling prettily as she stood, swaying for a second on unsteady legs, "Yeah, definitely."

He watched her walk away with a sigh and looked down at the reason he hadn't dared stand to follow. Not until he'd calmed his raging erection down anyway. It slid back into his body almost painfully and he winced as he sat up. He meditated on the meaning of restraint before standing himself and heading towards the house, feeling another rush of heat as his mind whispered in her voice, '_Yeah, definitely.'_

He shivered at the thought of what might lay in store.


	9. Chapter 9

She disappeared after dinner and without trying to seem like he was doing it, he searched for her. The wing where his guests were staying was quiet so she probably wasn't there. Her room, a different one from where she had been recovering in, was empty, so no luck there. He wandered and listened, and held out a tiny hope that he'd come upon her unaware. Maybe surprise her. He was passing by the kitchen when a flicker of movement caught his eye outside and he brought his full attention around to it.

Just a flash, of pale blue skin darting into the forest and he grinned to himself. _Ah, ha._

Wondering at the strange mood that seemed to have taken him, he strode swiftly out of the side door and out into the woods, heading in the direction he thought she'd gone.

So he had seen her, she thought with a satisfied smile. She'd watched his silhouette go from room to room from outside, where she'd been enjoying the evening. Her blood sang with youthful caprice as she led him deeper into the wooded stand. The night deepened around them and she made sure to make just enough noise so he knew generally which way to go. She felt stronger than she had in weeks, and anticipation filled her with energy. She found a break in the trees and waited for him to spot her.

Marcus turned his head sharply at the sound of breaking twigs from somewhere to the right. His eyes adjusted to the gloom slowly and out there, outlined by dusklight, he saw her, standing there tall and strong, her eyes challenging him. Something welled up in him, primitive and undeniable. He bolted for her.

And she ran, laughing as she darted between trunks and shrubbery. He was a good distance behind but gaining fast, his longer stride eating up the distance between them. Predator and prey, pursuer and pursued, they danced a dance as old as time itself. His hands reached for her time and time again, only to have her do something wickedly clever to elude him, spinning out of his hold or feinting one direction then darting another. His blood was hot in his veins and he found that he was also laughing. At her, at himself for being so childish, but he wouldn't stop for the world.

This tasted like something long forgotten, like there were no shackles from the past holding him, like there was nothing compelling him to think past this moment, just this...which was nonsense, of course, because there had always been duty, honor and discipline, it was ingrained in him. But this...freedom, it was new, it tempted new ideas and he relished it with every pump of his legs, every lunge for his quarry.

Finally, the chase ended with him diving forward and wrapping his arms around her. They fell together, laughing, into a deadfall of leaves and they tumbled to a halt with her over him, her mouth open in a wide smile, that clear ringing laugh resounding like bells in his ears. Oh, how he loved to hear her laugh.

"Gotcha." He rumbled, still astounded at this sense of fickle impulse which seemed to have snared them both.

"So you did." She got out between great gulps of air, her flanks heaving under his hands. And in a move that shocked her with its quickness, he flipped them so she was pinned under him, her mouth forming an perfect 'o', then eased into a secretive smirk, her eyes patently inviting him to go further, "Now what?"

He growled as he swept a wet line from the hollow of her throat up to a spot behind her aural canal with his long tongue. His hands worked her shirt up over her head and dropped it to the side, forgotten and did the same with his own, and he groaned as her hands started working his sides. She seemed to know just how much pressure to do it with, but then again this wasn't their first time together, no matter that it almost felt like it. The desert came to mind, no, that was the first time they'd done this when he'd really wanted it, wanted her. The re-awakening of true desire.

With awe, he touched her tenderly where she lay beneath him and marveled at how responsive she was to every stroke. Her skin was so soft, so luminescent in the light of Menae, which was just making its appearance over the horizon. He trembled as she shook, writhing with every touch. Control was waning in the face of this towering arousal.

His hands were tracing lines of fire over her skin, she just knew it. If she looked down, she'd see actual flames there. After being numb for so long, her skin ached for contact and he gave it so lightly, so teasingly that she was sure she was going to go mad if he didn't fuck her soon. Her hands found the front of his pants and he bucked as she brushed over the rigid cock that was straining against the fabric. She whimpered needily as she felt the swollen shape of it through his clothes and he fumbled with the fastening, pulling it open with abrupt jerky motions.

She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her pants. He helped her by pulling them the rest of the way off with one mighty tug, throwing them into the bushes. Her hands were once again on his cock and he closed his eyes at the delicious waves of feeling that washed through him from there. He found her sex surprisingly moist and hot, almost volcanic and pushed a finger into her depths, just the sensation of her inner muscles spasming around his digit threatened to throw him over the edge and he panted, "Susie, I don't think I can hold out."

She moaned as he pulled his thick finger away, aching to be filled and locked her gaze with his, a challenge on her lips, "Then let go."

He plunged into her with a loud cry that she echoed and set a savage pace, his first release coming upon him without warning, his thrusts turning arhythmic as he tried to hold onto some semblance of control through the outpouring of his seed into her welcoming body. It seemed endless, the feeling breaking in waves over him. His pace slowed to a crawl, pistoning in and out of her reflexively.

She watched his eyes roll back and the uncontrolled snapping of his hips as they slammed forward and drew back and bit her lip as she followed him over the edge, her vision almost whiting out from the intensity of her climax. She reached between them and squeezed him where he was still slowly thrusting into her and he hissed, picking the pace back up, his eyes opening once again to latch onto her face, mandibles slack in bliss. She nipped him along his chin and neck, moaning, "Don't hold back. I need to feel it."

His member seemed to swell even bigger where it was lodged in her and he panted with effort, the slap of flesh on flesh filling the night air. He swept his tongue over her sensitive nipples and she jolted wildly from the sudden overwhelming rush of sensation.

She was so hot around his cock, so wet and yet, the friction was intense. And her soft cries of 'harder, deeper' sparked a savage response in him and he lifted her and spun her over onto her knees without breaking stride. He kneaded those soft hips even as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts. He grunted in surprise as she dropped her shoulders to the ground and tilted her pelvis, granting him even more access. He pushed in as far as he could go with every thrust, the sight of his whole length disappearing into her tight channel enough to push him past the point of no return and his body jerked rigidly as he came, his hand finding its way around to the front, touching her sensitive folds, feeling his essence dripping out of her onto the ground.

Her cries grew sharper as his clever manipulation combined with the steady thrusting of his cock had her coming yet again, her cunt fluttering weakly around his member. Utterly spent, she straightened until her back was flush to his chest. His keelbone rubbed between her shoulderblades but she paid it no mind as his arms came around to embrace her tightly, his forehead finding a place to rest on her shoulder as he breathed harshly in exhaustion. His penis slipped from her after a time, to retract back into his body and she turned to face him, wrapping her own arms around his waist.

She decided as she looked up into his half lidded eyes that they were the only sky she ever needed.

He let himself fall to one side like a felled tree, rolling onto his back. He pulled her closer, onto his chest and tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his parched mouth. He gathered enough saliva to say, his voice hoarse, "Well, that was..."

Words failed him, but she rescued him from his inadequacy, chuckling as her cheek rested on the plates of his pectoral, "Amazing? Wonderful? Incredible?"

"Yeah, those, all of those." He hummed in humor, "Plus that one human idiom. Hot. That was hot."

"Mmmm." She imitated his hum as best she could, hearing his heart drum fast and hard under her ear was lulling her into a drowsy state. Menae was just cresting the tree line and she looked at its pocked surface with awe, "The moon's so bright."

"It's closer than most moons, and dense enough to have atmosphere. During the Reaper War, it was our last line of defense. If you look close enough, you can still see all those dead husks and marauders up there." Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her peer closely at the big bright circle.

"Wait, that's not pos-" She turned a mock angry eye on him, her lips forming a half smile as she slapped playfully at his chest, "Aw, you had me going for a second there."

He laughed at her as she pulled a comically serious expression of consternation at him. Then she sighed and plopped her head back onto his pec and her hand started roaming across the landscape of his plates, over his keel, down his abdominals. She closed one eye as she imagined it as the surface of some planet, like one of those she'd seen through other's eyes and then she frowned at the intrusive thought, it was not one she wanted to think about in this place, at this time. This peace that had found her was fragile and her hand stilled.

He sensed a disquiet in her and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

She frowned as the peace popped like a soap bubble and thought from outside began to invade, "Why won't they leave? Why do they keep...checking up on me?"

"They're your family. They love you." He knew it rankled at her to be the focus of their regard now.

That word again, she tried to quell the urge to seethe, "My mother, Javik and the girls I can handle though I wish they would go back to the fleet. It's the others, it's everyone really. I'm starting to feel like the prime exhibit at a zoo."

He'd noticed the staff and the guards and nurses tended to tiptoe around her, now that everyone knew she was the daughter of the late great Commander Shepard, "They miss their friend, who lost her life to preserve their right to one, it's only natural that they feel obligated to watch over her daughter."

"I can do without that kind of obligation. Some days I just want to go somewhere where no one knows who I am and..." She tapered off, slightly ashamed at how selfish she was. "And-"

He finished her sentence, "And lose yourself. I understand. So, I should book passage for the next galaxy then? For two?"

She laughed bitterly, "Right. No chance of going unrecognized now, is there? I hear I'm the talk of every newsfeed on both sides. With holos and everything."

"You're famous." He drawled with a sardonic lilt. "I guess this is why you joined the UAF as a simple grunt."

"Yeah, I just wanted to belong to something." Wistfully, she thought back to those days slugging through muck, "...somewhere. I never wanted to be more than a cog."

"You know, even if you'd never found out, if rampaging fanatics hadn't taken over a quarter of the galaxy in some crazy crusade, I think you would still have found it difficult to stay at the bottom. To stay overlooked." He lifted her chin so she could see how earnest he was, "Gold tends to sparkle even in a mineshaft."

She frowned and opened her mouth to say something he was sure was along the lines of '_why, because of my father?'_ and he put his fingers over her lips and continued, answering her silent question, "Maybe. But that doesn't matter. You can only be you. And you _are_ you, brilliant as you are."

She did find that reassuring, strange how he could remind her of the basic things with only a few words._ I am me, I am not Shepard._

He made a small smacking noise of wry approval as he saw it sink in and she calmed once again in his arms. Silence fell once more and but for the sounds of animals and insects in the distance, doing whatever it was animals did at night, it was like they were alone in the world and he was content to think so for now. She spoke softly as though afraid to break the natural world's hush, "Can we sleep out here? Will it be warm enough?"

He smiled, "We...could, but there's a place in the sacred grove that would be more comfortable in case it rains. The Bower."

"Bower? Like a bird's nest?" She said, surprised.

"Not really. C'mon." He stood and lifted her by the hand. They gathered their clothing and she slipped on his shirt before he could grab it away from her and she gave him a playful and defiant shrug. He answered it with a shrug of his own while he tugged his pants back on, as if to say he didn't care and he felt that feeling of exuberance starting to come over him again and took off at a trot.

She grinned and gave chase, the shirt tail flapping around her thighs like a tunic, "So now I get to chase you?"

"Not really." He laughed, and grabbed her hand, pulling her along at a brisk run. She kept up gamely, leaping over small obstacles in a flash of toned legs. He tried not to get too distracted as they wound their way out of the forest and into a smaller copse of trees off to one side of the house.

She huffed in mock exasperation, "Are you just going to keep saying that?"

He affixed her with a sly smirk and said, "Not really."

He put on a burst of speed to avoid her ire and it did become a chase in earnest then as they ran through the orchard, carefully kept and maintained. There, at the center, hidden from prying eyes was a thicket, a huge bramble of woven tall grasses and branches, clearly shaped by loving hands. He slipped inside past the mat door and yanked her in as she attempted to do the same, laughing to hear her squeak in surprise. He left her standing there as he lit a small lantern, hanging it from a hook clearly meant for it in the center of the chamber. He dimmed it to a mere flicker, just enough to see by.

There was just enough room to stand erect in the Bower. Susan looked around with interest at the small dwelling, saw how cunningly the reeds were woven to block all sight of the inhabitants. She looked up and was surprised that the sky was completely blocked from view. Marcus said, "It's watertight, too."

A pallet lay on the floor, made of synthetic material, thick and plush and she sat on it, she noticed another entrance at the back, or was it an exit, "Why are there two doors? This is a really small...cottage to need two doors."

He plopped onto the bed behind her and pulled her close, 'spooning' as the humans called it but it came as natural to him as breathing. He yawned hugely into her tentacles, which had loosened to drape across the spread, "You know, in case there's intruders, or a fire or an invasion by a horde of ancient machine intelligences."

"And a second door is supposed to prevent all that?" She sounded just as exhausted as he, but he smiled to hear the humor in her tone.

"What can I say? Turians are optimists." He made his voice sound sour and was rewarded by a laugh that followed him into the sweet oblivion of sleep. No past, no future, just them in the ancient betrothal hut of his people. Not that it was really as serious as all that any more, but a thought chased him as he'd chased her not long ago and that thought was that he wished he'd meant it in earnest, that it was their betrothal in fact and not just fantasy.


	10. Chapter 10

They sat across from each other on the shuttle, and he hid a smile behind his hand at how her eyes kept finding his. They were finally headed back to the front and he knew he was going to miss the haven they'd made of his ancestral home. The last week had blessed him with a store of new, happier memories and he'd been surprised over and over at his capacity to...play. How young he felt in her company.

She kept stealing glances, knowing that he was amused by this by the flicker in his azure gaze. He'd amazed her with his increasingly frequent bouts of lightheartedness and was gladdened that she'd been a part of that. That she'd been able to make him smile more often was a treasure she took from her time on Palaven.

Soon enough, the blood would fly and they'd most likely be fighting for their lives again in desperate battles against even more desperate people, but they'd always have this, the time they'd spent together on his homeworld. They watched each other and thought longingly, unbeknownst to each other, of when this raging conflict would finally be over so they could get back to the this sanctuary.

He looked out a port and saw that it was the Normandy itself that had come to get them and his browplates rose in surprise. Accompanying her was a veritable flotilla of ships. He wondered at the numbers and settled back to mull it over, sure that they'd know why soon enough.

Setting foot on the Normandy's deck again was definitely strange, especially since everyone seemed to be giving her a wide berth. A pang struck her as she attempted to lock eyes with one ensign who she'd had a few friendly conversations with only to have that human's eyes drop down and away from her.

So...it was even here.

Susan moved a bit closer to Marcus and tried not to think about it, with little success. Marcus shot her a questioning look as he summoned the elevator. The door slid open before he even let off the button and they found themselves face to face with Jack, Anderson, Kaiden and James, who looked equally taken aback at their sudden appearance.

James was the first to recover, stepping forward with a warm smile, "Well, if it isn't Grim and Smiley. We were hoping to get down here before you arrived. You know, set up some balloons, some streamers. Spike the punchbowl..."

"I think what he means is welcome back." Kaiden said with a laugh, slapping Marcus on the shoulder in friendly fashion.

Jack scowled briefly, "Alright alright, enough of this bullshit. We have work to do."

Anderson, leaning heavily on his cane, stood to one side of Susan and gave her a little prod with his elbow, "It is good to have you both back. Now that we have the Shepards on the run, we need as many hands on deck as possible to mop up their mess."

The ambassador turned to Marcus and said, "Have you thought about what we talked about? Your reinstatement?"

Susan was surprised. Marcus hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to her, but she could see that it was the only natural conclusion. To be honest, she felt a bit left out and rubbed her neck nervously as she watched them spin in his orbit. A strange turn of events. As for herself, she'd never really severed her ties to the UAF, was given license to act as an agent of the council and the Shadow Broker covertly. Now that her primary mission was accomplished, was there a place for her in all this?

Marcus spotted her looking a bit lost and lifted his hands to calm the bursts of advice and comments from all quarters, "I've thought about it..."

There was a moment of awkward silence as they waited for more. Jack grunted impatiently, "And?"

"I accept." A hand collided with his back, making him stumble forward clumsily. They all laughed around him and he smiled sheepishly back, not sure if it was embarrassment or pleasure at being so...accepted that was warming the plates on the back of his neck, but he straightened and looked Anderson dead in the eye, "Better than being hung as a deserter, at any rate."

"Hanged. Men are hanged, meat is hung. Anyway, you _were_ AWOL for a couple of years." Anderson turned and gestured for Susan and Marcus to enter the lift with him. The rest filed in behind them and Anderson hit the button for the CIC as he continued, "But in light of the circumstances, I've convinced the council to take my recommendation that you be reinstated at the rank of Lieutenant Commander."

"Sheesh, he deserted and got a promotion out of the deal? Maybe I should run off for a couple months." Jack said sarcastically.

Kaiden laughed, "But what would we do without your sunny personality?"

"And calming presence." James grinned and Susan was amused to see the two men exchange a fist bump behind the fuming female. Jack's hands were clenched in rage and from the way her shoulders were starting to draw up, there was a tirade in the works, but it was neatly diverted by Marcus.

"Why are there so many ships above Palaven?" He asked, knowing it would defuse the situation. He'd always been good at calming the volatile trio down. Maybe wrangling the higher ups was really why they wanted him back.

Anderson said, "We're making a net to catch all the little enemy ships and fighters out there, and force their borders back until there's not a single planet left that flies enemy colors."

"But they're making it damn difficult with that one carrier that's still out there. Most of what's left of their armada must be with it, guarding it as it jumps all over the damn map. There have been strikes on some of the less secure colonies inside our borders, raiding for supplies, weapons," Jack stated grimly, "They don't leave survivors."

"And what about their colonies that we've captured?" Susan asked, evenly, though her hands wrung anxiously behind her back. Those scores of drones that had pressed so close, violating her mind, what of them?

Anderson eyed her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly under his regard, which spoke of sympathy for her ordeal and pride for her bravery. He said, "Some have capitulated or surrendered, some destroyed themselves rather than be liberated. All of them are under quarantine and tight surveillance."

Susan frowned slightly as the conversation continued on around her, quelling the thought that wondered which was better. It was disquieting. This eagerness to see them all destroyed.

Marcus kept an eye on her even as he spoke to them, the ones who waited for his measured opinion, "And you've been scanning for implants? The ones Aleia told us about?"

"They're hard to detect, shielded somehow, but what we have been able to find is traces of that fluid in their bloodstreams. Apparently, they needed to dose up from time to time." Jack glanced at Susan, whose thoughts were clearly turned inward, "We even found the traitors on the Normandy that gave away its location."

"I still can't believe it. Traitors on the Normandy." Kaiden ran his hand through graying locks and shook his head.

Vega put a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly, "We got them good though, didn't we. Took out most of their supply chains, all but one of their carriers, and now we're taking it all back."

"Yeah.." Kaiden looked thoughtful for a moment before straightening as the elevator doors opened on the CIC, taking on an air of command. As well as Jack and James may have run the show in his absence, Marcus could see that the Normandy was Alenko's boat first and foremost by the way every head turned and smiles lit the faces of every crewman there.

The party strode into the room boldly and Marcus heard much whispering as eyes found Susan standing in the back of their little coterie. Her face was carefully still as she gazed back, but Marcus saw the pained flicker in her green eyes. In fact, it seemed that Jack and Vega also felt how uncomfortable she was with the scrutiny and shuffled a bit to break their line of sight to her, all without really seeming to do so on purpose. Susan sighed almost inaudibly in relief and Marcus flicked a mandible at her in humor. She smiled tightly back.

Kaiden stepped up to the galaxy map and with a few touches, laid in a new destination before turning on his heel and gesturing for the group to continue onto the conference room.

Once past the security barrier, Anderson pulled up a larger version of that same galaxy map and spoke quietly to an ensign to bring them refreshments. Marcus took a moment to study the map in detail, marking where the border had indeed been pushed back, not as far as he'd like, but understandable. He said, "These areas...the ones that have given the least ground, those are hard targets, aren't they? Factory planets, shipyards and the like?"

"Yes, they are and we don't want to push past around them too far in-" Kaiden paused.

Marcus finished, "-because that would open up our flank. I'm assuming that's what we'll be doing, then? Taking out these heavily defended places."

"The rest of the fleets can take and hold the soft targets, though a final decision on those colonies will have to be reached soon. There are some the council isn't sure are really...sincere in their wish to surrender." Anderson said, his lips drawing back in a grim line.

As the others talked, Susan was overcome with a disquieting feeling, like someone was breathing down her neck and her pulse picked up as the soft whoosh of the door behind her made her skin prickle and itch. Just on the edge of true perception, she could hear...something, a whispering and it was pulling at her like little hooks in her flesh. A presence, unwanted.

She spun on the intruder, a crewmember with a tray of drinks, not the same one as before and one whose eyes burned as they fell upon her. Susan shouted and lifted one hand to point at the-"Traitor!"

Obviously startled at being recognized, the human male dropped the tray and went for a weapon. Jack shouted, "Look out!"

Marcus wished he'd had the foresight to bring a weapon as he launched himself at the man. Now he could see it, the fire of zealotry in the traitor's brown eyes and wrenched the pistol out of his hands, intending to turn it about and finish him off. But he was beaten to the punch by the people at his back. Blue light surrounded the man and lifted him and Marcus felt Susan shift next to him, her hands moving just within his periphery in a vicious downward motion.

The traitor had time to scream as he plummeted back to the ground headfirst, landing with a sickening crunch, his grey matter splatting across the deck in a sick red wash. Marcus flicked a shocked gaze at the asari on his right and uneasiness flooded through him at how her eyes shone with...wildness of a kind he wasn't sure he wanted to explore.

"Jeezus, T'soni..." Kaiden came up next to him and prodded the corpse with a foot, it fell over limply and now Marcus could see that from the shoulders up, there was nothing left.

"Teach him to walk into a room full of biotics." Jack laughed, sneering.

"Joker, EDI, you might want to send a mech up here for some...clean up." James said to the ship in general and there was the buzz and whir of cameras coming to life around them.

"So much for interrogating him." sighed Anderson.

"Honestly, we can't leave you kids alone for a-Sweet Jesus, that's gross. Who got brains on my deck? Jack?!" Joker's voice sharpened with accusation.

"Hey, don't look at me! I was just standin' here minding my own business." Jack grinned wickedly, crossing her arms.

"It's not important. Just send that mech." Kaiden cut his hand through the air, his tone brooking no argument. Then he turned an inquisitive gaze on Susan, who'd straightened and was watching him warily, "How did you know?"

"I...heard him, his implant." She resisted shuddering or hugging herself in reaction. There had been a moment there, when she'd felt that traitor's life get snuffed out as though it were her own and she'd blinked, sure for a split second that it was her brains that coated the decking. She swallowed that mad thought and returned his gaze as steadily as she could.

"Well, that's gonna be...useful." James said with a crooked smile, hands out and upturned as he shrugged. "Why didn't you come back with super powers, Alenko?"

"That's Rear Admiral Alenko to you, Vega."

"Aw, geez, next you'll want me to start calling you 'sir'."

"You know, this is probably why you never got promoted past lieutenant, Lieutenant." Kaiden raised a brow, but the laughter in his eyes belied the seriousness of his words.

"Any time you wanna let me retire, I'll walk...gladly."

Marcus commented to Jack, "Have they always been like this? Seems very...unorthodox."

"We're an unorthodox bunch. When you've been fighting together for this long, rank becomes a thing only really enforced on the battlefield."

"And you all know where you stand regardless." Marcus said, pensively, fingers tapping his chin. Discipline, a thing drummed into every cadet. Rank and file, clear chains of command. Only it seemed, once you got past all that training, you could learn when to ignore rank, when the understanding between you and your commanding officers was so deep that you knew exactly how far you could push without breaking that trust. Break the rules...'_It's good to remember that you can.'_ His uncle's voice in his ear and he jumped slightly.

Strange how even after all this time, his uncle's words could still affect him so. He turned away from the sight of the mech scrubbing a man's remains off the deck and found Susan, who couldn't seem to take her eyes off it, her face tight in the slightest expression of horrified fascination. It was odd to think of her as being capable of such brutality, with that look on her face, but she was a soldier. They were all soldiers. They'd seen far worse.

He turned to the rest and said, "Where do we start?"


End file.
